


Graduation

by SegaBarrett



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: F/M, High School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2017-11-03 01:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 27,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exploration of Jesse's high school years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from Breaking Bad and I make no money from this.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to take him.” 

Jesse Pinkman heard the words through the walls of his aunt’s bathroom; his ear was pressed against the wall and he felt a sense of being a little kid again, hiding from things he didn’t quite want to face up to just yet. He had flocked in there shortly after their arrival, when his mother had announced that they hadn’t just come to visit Aunt Jenny, but that this was where Jesse would be living as he was no longer welcome back at home. 

“It’s no problem at all,” Jenny’s voice replied, in its cool, crisp, somewhat floaty tones. Familiar tones, safe ones in a sea of uncertainty and, more than that, unbridled fury. 

“He’s impossible. I’m so grateful. We just didn’t know what to do with him, Jennifer.” 

Mrs. Pinkman continued to bluster along, adding a few more apologies and layers of gratitude for her sister – “and considering everything, too” -- to be willing to take in her disappointment of an older son, in part to take care of her given her worsening lung cancer, but as much so or more because Mrs. Pinkman had run out of places to put Jesse that were somewhere other than her own home.

She hadn’t wanted to throw her older son out on to the curb, after all – even though he was eighteen, he was still a high school boy… And maybe, just maybe, he could get his act together. But Jesse’s father would have none of that, and she couldn’t really blame him. They hadn’t been bad parents to him, not at all, and he had repaid them by constantly running with the wrong crowd, doing drugs, stealing things, and being an all-around problem child. 

Their younger son, now, he was different. Jake was already showing signs of being, well, a prodigy almost. Mrs. Pinkman didn’t quite like to use that word, it seemed a little boastful but, really, that’s what he was – only five, and already so intelligent. So bright-eyed, so eager to learn – so unlike his older brother. Jesse had been a problem since the moment he was born, always a rambunctious child, getting into everything – he was the kid who would never sit still, was always sticking his hand into the light socket no matter how many times you told him _no_. Jesse seemed to take no as a challenge, one he would gladly accept, rather than a prohibition.

Sometimes Mrs. Pinkman felt it was a wonder they had decided to have a second child at all after their experience with Jesse.   
Now, Jenny had always said to her that Jesse wasn’t a bad kid; every time they would visit, she’d gush over him even while Mrs. Pinkman flushed and apologized for whatever his latest indiscretion had been.

She was at the point now where, if Jenny liked him so much, well, she could have him – but why she’d want him around, especially while she was dying, was anybody’s guess. 

“Janet, please,” Aunt Jenny replied calmly. “It’s no problem at all. I’m sure Jesse and I will get along splendidly. You can go – we’ll be fine.” 

Jesse could see the light flush of Jenny’s hand as she insisted, as if he was watching the conversation instead of merely eavesdropping. He heard a few murmured goodbyes before the door latched and the car drove away. 

He reluctantly unlatched the bathroom door and walked out, stepping out on to the carpet and trying to shake off the dressing down he had gotten from his parents before he had been deposited on his aunt’s doorstep. As he did, he considered the situation as he looked up at the woman whose house had become his own. 

Jennifer Carlow was six years younger than her sister and had an appearance and a life rather different than Janet’s. While she was also blonde, she kept her wavy, silky hair longer than her sister’s, and she was taller and more slender. She had always stayed single, while her sister had married Adam Pinkman straight out of secretarial school and had Jesse about two years later. She had spent her life going between different careers; for a while she had been a flight attendant (or “stewardess” at the time), afterwards a manager for a local hotel, and most recently, before she had gone on indefinite sick leave, an elementary school teacher.

“Well?” Jenny asked as she looked at her blue-eyed nephew and smiled. Jesse raised an eyebrow and looked back at her, unsure of what to say.

“Well what?” he inquired, his energy seeping out of him at the realization that his parents had actually followed through on their threats to kick him out of the house. He had finally pushed them too far this time – there was no going back. It wasn’t even fair. He hadn’t done anything that bad. In fact, he couldn’t even remember what he had actually done this time – it had been a week or so ago when he’d done it, and every little thing he had done since (not picked up after himself, left the garage door open, got caught smoking) had been another notch against him until, this morning, they had put their collective foot down. 

“Well, what do you want to do?” Jenny pressed, smiling again. Jesse blinked and looked back at her. Maybe this living arrangement wouldn’t be all bad. “I know you have friends and a life, and I’m not going to take that from you. There will be some ground rules, though. This isn’t a flophouse.” She paused, grinning. “But… in the meantime… Monopoly?” 

“Monopoly?” Jesse’s eyes lit up for a moment, before he lowered them again. “I dunno, I never win at that.”

“Does anyone ever really win at Monopoly? How often does anyone finish a game? They tend to go on forever, don’t they?” Aunt Jenny made her way to the bookcase in the cornered and retrieved a large rectangular, shaking it as she smiled. “Want to find out?”

“Sure, I guess,” Jesse replied. “By the way… what’s a flophouse?”

“I’m… not sure exactly,” Jenny said, moving to the carpet and setting up the board. “But I know that this isn’t one.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jesse and Aunt Jenny were tied at four houses each – and Jesse was about to buy a railroad - when there was a knock at the front door. It sounded like someone was making a halfhearted attempt to tap “shave and a haircut, two bits,” in fact. 

“That’s probably the mail… Could you get it, Jesse?” Aunt Jenny inquired, gesturing with her head to indicate that getting up from her cross-legged position might be a little harder than getting into it had been.

“Sure, no problem,” Jesse replied, standing up in a swift motion and walking over to the door. It was odd, he thought to himself, that he responded to requests from his aunt so differently than he did those from his parents. Maybe it was because Aunt Jenny didn’t nag at him, didn’t snap at him… To say no to her would just be mean. 

He opened the door and was surprised to find, instead of the mailman standing on the step, there stood a slim, short girl around his age, with long, dark-brown hair and glasses, dressed in a pair of khakis and a green T-shirt with white writing proclaiming the initials of “O.U.”.

“Oh! Hi!” she exclaimed, looking a little surprised to see him as well, “I just wanted to drop off this package for Ms. Carlow.” She extended a small white-and-blue box to Jesse. “The postman delivered it to my house by mistake yesterday.” 

“Okay,” Jesse replied, “I’ll give it to my aunt.” At his words, the girl narrowed her eyes a moment and snapped her fingers.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Jesse Pinkman?” He blinked a moment before he realized that the girl had looked familiar in a way that he hadn’t bothered to try and put his finger on. Then it all clicked, and he wondered why it hadn’t before. 

“Deanna Escobar,” he replied with a nod. “You still live next door?”

“Haven’t gone anywhere. Where have you been?” Deanna teased. “I haven’t seen you since grade school… Well, I think, at least. I guess I figured you moved.” 

“No, I’ve still been around. I guess we just haven’t had classes together,” Jesse replied. That they hadn’t run into each other made a lot of sense – Deanna, even back in grade school, had been an ultra-brain and Jesse a slacker who didn’t show up half the time (at least from fifth grade on) and never did half the work even when he did, preferring to sit in the back, sketching and daydreaming. 

They had been friends, somehow, despite the difference. They had kept ending up in each other’s classes, sitting in the same rows, and walking the same way home from school.

In elementary school, it was a chance of random selection to end up in a class together, whereas middle school and high school tended to be split up by ability – so when seventh grade had rolled around, the two stopped cropping up in each other’s line of sight. If Jesse thought hard about it, he was pretty sure he’d caught a glimpse of Deanna going about her business somewhere in the meantime, either at school or when he was visiting his aunt, but he couldn’t place it.

Deanna hadn’t changed very much, physically, since Jesse had last seen her. He knew that if this were some kind of teen romance movie (not that he was into any of those), the gawky, mousy-haired girl would have shed her glasses for contacts, put her hair up and be sporting a rockin’ bod, but other than being a bit taller and looking a little older, Deanna was still gawky and mousy as she ever was. 

“Yeah, well,” Deanna quipped, putting her hand on her hip. “You shouldn’t be a stranger.” She jerked her finger in the direction of Jesse’s yard. “I live next door. You should come by one of these days when you’re visiting your aunt. I miss you.” 

“I missed you, too,” Jesse replied, sticking his hand in his pocket – though he wasn’t quite sure if the words were true. He couldn’t really remember actively thinking about Deanna in the years since they’d drifted apart. “And I’m not visiting, I moved in, yo.” He moved one foot back, hoping she wouldn’t insist on asking why he’d moved in. There was no part of that he wanted to talk about, not with anyone and particularly not with someone he hadn’t talked to since his idea of rebellion was sitting behind the house and pretending to smoke candy cigarettes.

“You did? Then you really have no excuse!” she continued as Jesse reached out and finally took the box from her. “It’s not like you don’t know where I live. Anyway, I better get back.” 

“Yeah, you must have some new… chemical theories or something to go discover,” he replied flatly. Jesse’s sarcastic jibe got a good-natured laugh in response. 

“My dad’s the chemist, not me,” she responded, pushing her hair over her shoulder. “I’m don’t know if I’m really looking forward to Chemistry this year – can you imagine if I mess up? Pretty embarrassing, right? But thanks. I’m honored.” She placed a hand to her heart and smirked, then paused before adding, “But anyway… See ya soon, I hope.” Deanna waved and made her way back off the ledge before walking down the sidewalk and crossing her own yard, disappearing out of Jesse’s view.

“Who was at the door?” Jenny asked as Jesse returned to the game, sitting down and gazing at the board and flicking his stack of fake money with his fingers. 

“Deanna Escobar. She had this package for you,” Jesse said, handing his aunt the box, which she placed off to the side. 

“Nice girl,” Jenny replied, smiling. 

“Yeah, I guess.” Jesse shrugged. He stared down at his fingers a moment, flicking the cardboard back and forth as he wondered how much he himself had changed. 

_Not at all,_ he decided finally, but couldn’t figure out whether that was good or bad. 

“All right, I’m gonna buy this railroad. Vroom vroom, yo.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Drug use.

Jesse looked up at his ceiling as he awoke, instantly missing his old room. At home – his old home – the walls had been plastered with his posters of rock bands and comic book characters, and he could have told a story about every inch of the place.

 _Here’s where I banged my head when I was nine,_ he could have recalled. _And here’s where the marker never quite came off when I decided I should draw a mural when I was five._

It’s not as if his aunt’s house didn’t hold any memories for him at all – he had spent a great deal of his childhood visiting on the occasional weekend, running through the halls and being warned to not use his watergun in the house. 

He could remember playing with Deanna and the other kids in their adjoining backyards, now, something he hadn’t thought about in years.  
 _  
“I call Silver Snakes!” Deanna proclaims as she climbs up the ladder and reaches the top of the slide._

_“Okay, okay, well I get… the purple parakeets,” a boy chimes in._

_“I choose Jesse!”_

_“You always choose Jesse – you like him,” the boy replies._

_“Shut up!”_

_“Okay, okay – I choose Ricky.”_

_“You always choose Ricky,” Deanna mimics annoyingly, “You like him!”_

_The argument turns into a mini-brawl, with Deanna and the boy both weakly slugging each other before both fall down the slide._

_“Betcha can’t climb all the way up the net in a minute, Dee,” Ricky chimes in._

_“Betcha I can.”_

_Deanna never can._

_Jesse never can, either._

__

Jesse decided he needed to start making this room more his own. Once Jenny said it was okay – he didn’t want to get thrown out on the street his first day here – he could tack up some posters (or maybe tape them up) and see if he could change the color of the room from white to something more interesting.

Because right now it all looked pretty fucking depressing.

He rolled off of his bed and opened his door, peeking his head into the hallway before knocking on the next door over – his aunt’s room.

“Hey, Aunt Jenny?” he called. “You okay?” 

The door opened a crack, a moment later, and Jenny stuck her head out, smiling at him.

“Yes, Jesse, I’m fine. If you want to go out, that’s fine – I’ll be all right. Could you come back by three to take me to my doctor’s appointment, though? I’m not really so up to driving these days.”

Jesse felt a pang of guilt at the words. He needed to keep his head on straight now, for his aunt. He couldn’t just go ahead and be the screw-up that his parents were convinced he was.

“Sure, Aunt Jenny,” Jesse replied quickly. “I’ll make sure I’m back by three. Thanks.”

He waved in her direction and then went out the door. He only had a week left to do what he wanted before he had to go back to at least pretending to give a shit. _Better make the most of it while it lasts._

Jesse wasn’t sure why he even bothered going to school, anyway. It wasn’t as if any of the teachers actually expected him to learn anything. He had always been the kid in the back, writing down joke answers instead of actually learning the material. He didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life, and stern talking-to’s from his not-particularly-motivated guidance counselors the previous year hadn’t cleared anything up. 

But none of that was important now – he was on his way over to Badger’s. Badger, whose real name was Brandon Mayhew, was a drop-out from neighboring La Cueva High School – famous for being the alma mater of Freddie Prinze, Jr. and Neil Patrick Harris. Badger had made it to tenth grade before he had just stopped coming in; he had declared to Jesse later that he had decided school just wasn’t on his “wavelength”.

The two had met through one of Jesse’s good friends at J.P. Wynne, Kayla Smits. Kayla was dark-haired, half-Mexican, and a knockout. She also had absolutely no romantic interest in either Jesse or Badger, which seemed to increase the amount of time that both wanted to spend around her, seemingly in the vain hope of changing her mind. How she had originally met Badger had been lost to time, but the three quickly became part of a group that smoked weed behind the local mall and played pool in Badger’s basement on weekends.

Jesse made it to Badger’s in record time. He could have driven it, but it seemed faster just to walk – it was only about six blocks away, after all. And he needed the wind in his hair, the sun on his scalp… he couldn’t quite explain it, but he needed it just the same. 

He rang the older boy’s doorbell and waited, sticking his hands into his pockets. Badger had his own place, which was nice – it was an apartment that his parents paid the rent on, in the dim hopes of keeping their son out of trouble. They didn’t seem to have much success, especially given that in the entire time Jesse and Badger had been friends – best friends, maybe even – he hadn’t seen Mr. and Mrs. Mayhew once. 

_Kinda like my parents,_ Jesse thought bitterly, but then he corrected that – that wasn’t quite true. _Badger’s parents just don’t care. Mine do care, but hate me._

Badger appeared at the front, opening the door and waving Jesse inside with a sway that indicated that whatever was the flavor of the day, pot or booze, Badger had already dipped into it.

“Hey, Jesse, man.”

Jesse walked on to the hardwood floor, smiling at his friend and looking around. Kayla was there, standing next to her best friend, a girl named Gia. She was pretty in her own right, a busty Italian girl with curly black hair and a sharp smile. 

“Hey, Jesse,” both of the girls sang out. 

“Hi,” he replied, “’sup?”

“Where you been?” Badger inquired. “I haven’t seen you in, like, a hot minute.” Jesse rolled his eyes.

“I’ve been around, man. Just… you holding?” He gestured with his hand, and Badger waved over someone out-of-sight from the back of the room. 

“Don’t you ever think about anything else other than weed, Jesse?” Gia asked with a grin. “I mean, come on. How do you expect to get anywhere in life?” Kayla snickered.

“Jesse’s just gonna get by on his good looks,” she retorted. “He’s gonna be a male model.”

“What good looks?” Badger asked, snorting. The figure who Badger had gestured to appeared, and Jesse recognized him as Levon Shads, another classmate from J.P. Wynne. He was very tall for an eighteen or nineteen year old (or whatever he was), at least sixty-four or six-five, rail-thin and caramel-skinned, with a shaved head. “Hey, Levon,” Badger asked, reaching out to grab a joint from Shads’ hand without preamble, “D’you think Jesse could get by on his good looks?”

“Nah, man, you scare the girls away,” he replied jovially.

“Ah, fuck it,” Jesse retorted, taking the joint from Badger and helping himself to a toke. _This is what life needs to be right now,_ he thought to himself, _just this simple. Nothing else._


	4. Chapter 4

School began on a Monday; a cold and rainy Monday that seemed to be expressly designed to throw in Jesse’s face that the blissful summer was over with and that it was time to get back to work – or get back to pretending to work at least, in Jesse’s case.

He looked over his schedule, which had ended up crumbled in a ball next to his alarm clock at one point or another, and tried to keep track of the classes. There was Chemistry, first thing in the morning – well, that was a class he probably wouldn’t see too much of; 7AM was seriously too early a time to wake up on any kind of a consistent basis.

After Chemistry was Homeroom – maybe he’d bother to roll in for that; after all, Homeroom was what mattered because if you got there in time for Homeroom, you were considered to be “there” for the day. As Jesse pulled off the shirt he’d slept in and pulled on another, he considered how stupid it was to set up the schedule that way – whoever taught the first class would probably have way fewer students than any other class, unless it was a porn-watching class or something.

After Homeroom would be English, followed by Gym and then, blissfully, lunch; afterwards he only had History and shop class. He’d tried to sign up for as many Vo-Tech classes this year as he could, but he had taken a number of them the previous years and he had gotten stuck taking a lot of the classes required to graduate in his senior year.

Shrugging off thoughts of how long the day was promising to be, Jesse changed the rest of his clothes and pulled open his door, walking into the hall and hearing his aunt walking in the kitchen below.

He walked downstairs, running a lazy hand through his hair to stop it from all sticking up, though it seemed pretty futile to do so. 

“Good morning, Jesse,” Aunt Jenny called, stepping out to the living room to meet him. 

“Good morning,” he mumbled. 

“Breakfast?” 

“Nah, I gotta get going…” He looked up at the clock. “Or else I’ll be late already.” 

“Well, at least take a Poptart with you,” his aunt suggested. “When’s your lunch?”

“Around eleven, but it’s always gross. So, yeah, I guess I’ll take a Poptart.” Jesse smiled and made his way into the kitchen, grabbing a foil packet and waving it. “I won’t starve.”

“Always glad to hear that,” she teased back, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “Now, go – drive safe, okay? I’m always worried about you with that flashy red car of yours.”

“I promise I will,” he replied, grinning. “No drag-racing.”

“There _better_ be no drag racing.”

***

When Jesse eventually climbed into his car, he still had fifteen minutes before class started, which was good – J.P. Wynne was only a five minute drive from his aunt’s house. At least he hadn’t had to change schools – that would have sucked – or, even worse, do what a good number of his classmates had done, lie about their current address in order to stay in one school or change to another, which tended to follow with school officials coming in and quite unceremoniously kicking people out of school.

Jesse figured he was going to get kicked out of school soon enough, anyway. 

As he turned the corner, he caught a flash of red and blue out of the corner of his eye and turned his head.  
Deanna Escobar was walking down the sidewalk, accompanied by an Asian girl with black curly hair, whose name Jesse didn’t know. He considered just driving on by – _hell, why not, it’s not as if I know either of them all that well_ – but then remembered how much it blew walking in to school when other people had cars, and pulled up next to them.

“Hey. Get in.” 

He reached around and unlocked the door to his backseat, swinging it open. The Asian girl exchanged looks with Deanna, with an expression of some muted worry, before Deanna grinned.

“It’s just my neighbor, Jesse,” she replied, grabbing the door and hopping in. “You coming, Maya?”

“Sure… Why not?” She climbed in next to Deanna and slammed the door.

“Sorry,” Jesse apologized as he got back on the road, “Didn’t mean to seem like, a total creepy old man, yo.”

“You want a ride, little girl?” Deanna teased. “At least offer us candy next time, yeesh.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be sure to bring some lollipops next time,” Jesse retorted. “What’s your first class?” 

“Chemistry,” Deanna and Maya replied at the same time.

“Yeah? Me too.” Jesse looked into his mirror and smirked. “All these years not having a class together and now… We’ve got one, right? Why the hell are we even in the same class?”

“Miss Simpson’s on sabbatical,” Maya piped up. “So there’s just one class with Mr. White. They added a second class in the afternoon but they put all the Honors and Vo-Tech kids in the morning one since a lot of us leave early.”

“Where are you leaving early to go?” Jesse inquired as he turned another corner. 

“I’m in a Health Professions program over at the hospital,” she replied. 

“Wow… That’s cool,” Jesse said, “Yeah, I have Vo-Tech. Shop.” 

“I kind of wanted to sign up for shop,” Deanna piped up, and Maya gave her a look. “What?”

“I don’t want to picture you with anything sharp. It’s just scary.”

At that, Jesse quickly pulled into the parking lot and, nearly clipping a nearby car, pulled into a parking space. 

The three unlocked their doors and walked in through the front entrance.

“Thanks, Jesse,” Deanna said, “I appreciate the ride.”

“Yeah, anytime… You just live next door, right? So… Why not?” 

“Come on,” Maya spoke up, looking at her watch, “We’re gonna be late.” They sped up (well, Deanna and Maya sped up, Jesse sauntered at a slightly less leisurely pace) and turned into Mr. White’s classroom. 

To their surprise, other students had taken up the majority of the seats already, with the exception of a set of one seat in the second to last row and two seats in the last row. 

Jesse quickly chose one of the last row seats, while Maya grabbed a chair in between two girls, one with white-blonde hair and pretty blue eyes and the other a dirty-blonde with gray eyes and glasses. Deanna, somewhat begrudgingly, took the seat on the other side of Jesse.

A few moments later, the cacophony in the classroom died down (somewhat) as Mr. White entered the room – Jesse vaguely recognized him from seeing him around school, he looked fairly distinctive, if extremely square, with a moustache and brown hair styled into a haircut that Jesse thought should have been outlawed sometime in the 80’s.

“Hello, everyone. Welcome to Chemistry. Let’s start by calling roll.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Pacey Anderson.” The girl with white blonde hair in front of Jesse raised her hand. A few seconds later, Jesse began to zone out as Mr. White rifled off the names of students with last names from A to E, before arriving at Deanna. Jesse raised his head slightly as she raised her hand, then went back to examining his desk – whoever had sat there previously had carved an intricate, if obscene, design into the paint of the lab station that involved a naked man riding a tortoise, armed with a sword.   
“Christine Morrison.” The girl with dirty-blonde hair raised her hand, and Jesse cocked his head to the side, examining her from the back. She was pretty, if not quite as exotic as Kayla. Maybe choosing this seat had been a good idea, tortoise doodle not withstanding.

A few more names and then, just as Jesse had managed to drift into a pretty interesting daydream… “Jesse Pinkman.”

“Uh, yeah, hey! I’m here!” Jesse exclaimed, raising his hand. A few people snickered, a girl with curly brown hair in the front row most prominently. Jesse shifted his head back into his seat and quickly curled under his arm. The people in this class were dicks, anyway, it wasn’t like any of them were paying any more attention than he was. He spent the next few names trailing his finger over the outline of the man on the tortoise. It was pretty cool, actually – a tortoise was a pretty unique animal to ride into combat. 

“Sherrilyn Sharons.” The girl who had been snickering at Jesse raised her hand.

“That’s Sherri,” she announced.

“Of course,” Mr. White replied with thinly veiled sarcasm. 

“Thank you, Mr. White!” she chorused. 

Jesse, meanwhile, turned to Deanna and whispered, “That’s Sherri, Mr. White, and by the way, I think I need to stick my nose a little farther up your ass.” Deanna smirked. 

“Shhh…” she whispered back.

“You know it’s true.”

“Not saying anything.”

“I haven’t talked to you in years, but I guarantee you that you hate her just as much as I do,” Jesse whispered.

“I do!” Maya chimed.

“Well, I have one vote.”

“Maya Yang,” Mr. White announced, and Maya raised her hand. “Okay, well, now that we’ve established that most of us are, indeed, here today, let’s start talking about Chemistry.”

“Shoot me now,” Jesse murmured.

“Shush, Jesse,” Deanna hissed back. “It might be interesting.”

“Yeah, I forgot, school is interesting to _you_ …”

“Jesse and Deanna,” Mr. White declared. “No talking back there.”

“Sorry!” Deanna exclaimed, sitting a little more upright.

“Oh, I’m going to have fun,” Jesse whispered with a devious grin. 

“I’m going to want to kill you by the end of this semester, aren’t I?” Deanna asked. Jesse nodded.

***

Jesse’s second class of the day was homeroom. Homeroom, in his eyes, seemed to be a completely pointless exercise in sitting around doing nothing, which admittedly, wasn’t all bad. At least in homeroom, there was no homework or assignments. He just had to drag his ass in there, vaguely on time.

Homeroom was in an old Science classroom – not Mr. White’s, but the one he’d been in for Biology back in tenth grade, which he had managed to somehow get a C in. The homeroom teacher was the Biology teacher, and Jesse couldn’t remember his name. Something that started with a D or an E and sounded kind of Russian, but that was as far as he could recall.

Jesse again found himself directly behind Christine Morrison, and began to pass the time by looking her up and down – as much as he could from the back, at least. Jesse wasn’t normally a big fan of blondes – he preferred girls with black hair, or at least dark brown – but she was pretty; her hair was curly and silky looking and, when she turned (with Jesse quickly looking away and tapping at his lab bench), he could see that she had pretty eyes, complimented by the glasses. 

_Hell, yes._

This was going to be the best seat in the house. If he could only figure out a way in… 

***

Next was English, which was held in an old stuffy room upstairs with little ventilation and constantly rattling pipes. Jesse was already sure that he was going to go stir crazy by the end of the class; the clanking of the pipes was driving him nuts. He imagined it being like the _Phantom of the Opera_ , which he’d caught on TV one night in his old house when he couldn’t sleep – except it was the _Phantom of the Pipes_. Maybe he’d leap down one day in the middle of class and demand to be paid and to have exclusive use of one of the desks. Jesse decided that if he wanted Jesse’s desk, he could have it. No way was he fucking with a guy who is trained in the art of the Punjab lasso.

Looking around the room, Jesse noticed a number of familiar faces, but only one “friendly” one – Kayla, and unfortunately she was a few seats away from him, in the same row but out of reach for either passing notes or catching a clandestine glimpse of her ass.

English was going to suck.

The teacher entered; she was a thin black-haired woman who looked as if she had graduated teaching school earlier that day. She was also kind of hot, but not hot enough for Jesse to have any desire to pay attention. He’d never understood the whole “hot for teacher” ideal, anyway. 

However, that was where his mind was, and where it seemed destined to stay – in the gutter. He started by thinking about the teacher – Ms. Ashford, her name was, apparently – and continued by wondering what it’d be like if he had a threesome with both Kayla and the hot girl from his Chemistry class… Christy, her name had been. They’d all be on his bed, no, wait, they wouldn’t, because he didn’t even live in his house anymore… It’d have to be his bed at his aunt’s, but, wait, his aunt would have to not be home because that would just be messed up.

“Jesse Pinkman?”

“Uh, yeah, hi, I’m here!” Jesse exclaimed, as some of the other kids snickered behind their hands at him. He shifted in his seat; why was he the center of attention so often today? Was it because he just couldn’t _pay_ attention to save his life? 

_Oh well, it’s not that big a deal. It’s just school._

He didn’t really concentrate on anything the rest of class.

***

If Jesse had had his way, the next thing on his list would have either been a “study release” or lunch, but as it was, the next class was Gym.

“If I polled every student in the state of Albuquerque,” he declared, “I think everyone would vote that they hated Gym.” His declaration was addressed to the cluster around him, which consisted of his friend Paul Tyree, along with Kayla and Gia as well as Deanna, who had awkwardly flopped down in their circle but seemed as if she halfway wanted no parts of it and halfway didn’t think any of them wanted her sitting near them. 

“The state of Albuquerque?” Paul retorted, “Seriously, Jesse?”

“Wait, what did I say?”

“You said, ‘the state of Albuquerque’,” Gia agreed, “Jesse, you’re an idiot.”

“I meant the state of New Mexico.”

“Yeah, sure, right.”

“All right everyone!” a voice exclaimed, and Jesse looked up in surprise. A man in his mid-50s had just walked across the gym floor, dressed in blue shorts and sporting massive abs. Jesse couldn’t help but be a little impressed. “Everyone shut up,” he continued, even though Jesse hadn’t heard anyone else talking. “I am Mr. Ehrlich. I am your gym teacher. This year, you are all going to get into shape, whether you like it or not!”

“And I _don’t_ ,” Deanna leaned over and whispered.

“No talking,” Mr. Ehrlich declared again. “Everyone stand up.”

Everyone begrudgingly did, with Jesse the last to get on his feet. Yes, this was a class that he would most definitely be skipping. Maybe he could get Paul, Gia, and Kayla to cut with him, and smoke weed outside the school. He could manufacture some doctor’s note. Maybe he could even get Deanna to tell him that he had a case of polio or something. After all, he did give her a ride to school.

“This year, you are all going to pass the President’s Physical Fitness Test! I am tired of being given a class of weaklings!” Mr. Ehrlich continued. “You will all try your best and you will do well – or you will fail, and you will be back next year while all of your friends have gone on to college!”

“Fat chance,” Kayla mumbled to Jesse, “I’m getting out of this shithole one way or another.”

“Come on, you guys,” Gia told them. “It’s not that bad. It’s just a work-out.”

“Okay, Gia, maybe it’s nothing to you, since you’re, like, Queen Athlete,” Kayla retorted, “But the rest of us, we all suck.”

“Speak for yourself!” Jesse muttered, and Kayla rolled her eyes. 

“I’m going to call each of you by name,” Ehrlich was continuing, “And you are going to do as many pull-ups as you can.”

“On the first day?” Paul complained quietly. “Just go over the class like everyone else does.” 

“Mr. Tyree?”

“Uh, me? What?” Paul inquired, feigning innocence.

“No, you, shut up. DeShondra Andres, you’re up first.”

While people began to be called to run up and do pull-ups, the group continued to talk about the indignity of being forced to take gym at all.

“I heard JFK was behind it,” Paul told them. 

“Screw JFK,” Jesse agreed. “He sucks ass.”

“Deanna Escobar,” Mr. Ehrlich called.

“Don’t watch,” she murmured as she walked up, which resulted in the whole group turning to gawk at her as she ran up and managed a miniscule jump before grabbing on to the bar, attempting to lift herself up, and succeeding in falling back down on her feet.

“Way to go, Dee!” Kayla exclaimed.

“Yeah, you go, Deanna,” Gia agreed with a grin. 

“Oh, shove it,” Deanna retorted as she walked back to her seat. “I’m not planning on becoming a pro athlete when I graduate.” 

“Jesse Pinkman!”

“Shit… me already?” Jesse grumbled.

“Go get ‘em, Jesse,” Kayla mocked.

“Yeah, set the world on fire.”

“Think of Kayla naked!” Gia encouraged.

“Not possible, ‘cause he’s never seen it!” Kayla fired back.

Jesse ran up and successfully did all of two and a half pull-ups before coasting back down on his feet.

“You’ll need to improve, Mr. Pinkman,” Mr. Ehrlich declared.

Jesse rolled his eyes and walked back to his seat.

He had a feeling he’d be hearing that a lot this year.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song quoted in this chapter is "Prologue/You Are What You Feel" from Joseph & the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. It is copyright 1969, Andrew Lloyd Webber/Tim Rice.

The next period of Jesse’s day was, thankfully, lunch, and he made his way to the cafeteria fast enough to grab a table relatively close to the food station. Paul, Gia, and Kayla each took spots around him, and before long Levon had slumped down next to Paul.

“I’m already done with this shit!” Levon declared. “And it’s only the first day. Man, fuck this.”

“Oh, give it up, Levon,” Kayla retorted. “It’s only the first day back. You’ve gotta wait ‘til the end of the week. Otherwise you just look lazy.”

“Even lazier than Jesse,” Gia agreed. “And that’s a difficult feat to accomplish.”

Jesse promptly stuck his middle finger up at her.

“So are we even getting lunch you guys?” Gia asked in response. “I mean, I walked by and it definitely looked like something died on the plate.”

“Yeah, um, no,” Jesse agreed. “I’m just going to get a damn cheese pretzel.” He rose from his seat.

“Hey Jesse, get me one,” Kayla called, taking out two dollars.

“Yeah, me too,” Gia agreed.

“While you’re up…” Paul chimed in.

“Goddamnit…”

***

“I’m already tired and I still have another class left,” Jesse grumbled to Paul as he took his seat in History. “I don’t even care about History.”

“Yeah, well, just look at it this way. Senior year, right?” Paul reminded him. 

“And then what do I do?”

Paul shrugged.

“You know, I’ve heard this teacher is a little… intense,” he pointed out.

“Intense?” Jesse asked, “What do you mean?”

“Like, he tells freaky stories that will give you nightmares.”

Jesse scoffed.

“I’m not afraid of anything you could tell me.”

He heard a little giggle and a snort from in front of him, and he moved up slightly to crane and look at who it had come from. Unsurprisingly, it was Sherri Sharons, who was sitting in the midst of a group of male and female students.

“Jesse, why are you even in this class?” she called back to him. “Didn’t you drop out of school yet? Get started in an exciting career pumping gas?” Her friends snickered along with her, and Jesse rolled his eyes.

“What’s it to you, bitch?” he retorted.

She simply laughed.

One of her friends turned and looked at Jesse, smirking.

“Nice clothes,” she snarled. “Got any that aren’t five times too big for you? Where’d you get ‘em? Thrift shop?” Sherri burst out laughing.

“Yeah, the thrift shop!” she agreed. Jesse opened his mouth to reply.

“Dude,” Paul cautioned him. “Not even worth it.” 

Luckily, they were saved by the teacher, a skinny, middle-aged man with a dark-brown beard, walking into the room.

“Hello, everyone,” he said, “My name is Mr. Cameron, Coach Cameron, whatever you want to call me. Welcome to History.”

“I hope,” Jesse murmured to Paul, “That his stories give everyone nightmares.”

***

The last class of the day was Shop. Jesse’s schedule had some kind of more impressive name for it, like Introduction to Woodworking or something similar, but everyone simply called it Shop.

The only open seat near the back (Jesse had made a point of never sitting near the front, a habit started in ninth grade and held to firmly in the years that followed) was between two girls, both of which he vaguely recognized. To the left was a girl with pitch-black hair cut into a bob and to the right was a girl with brown hair that was cut even shorter. He tried to place their names but came up, ironically, short.

He slid into the bench and looked to either side, giving a little nod of acknowledgement. 

“Hi. I’m Jesse,” he told them awkwardly. 

“Cara,” the black-haired girl told him. “Cara Winchester.”

“And I’m Leah Craigmile,” the short-haired girl chimed in. 

“Hey, I know you,” Cara said after a moment, “You used to hang out with Deanna, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Jesse replied. “And I kinda do… again… I guess.”

“Me and Deanna are like this,” Cara said, crossing over her fingers. “She’s cool.”

Jesse grinned.

“Literally? ‘Cause that’d be kinda hot.”

Leah rolled her eyes and mimed hitting him in the head.

At that moment, the door opened and the sound of a cane hit the floor. They all looked up to see a man in his sixties with broad-shoulders and gray-white hair walking up to the chalkboard.

“I’m Mr. Pike. And this is Wood Shop. You all signed up for it. Or you didn’t.” He tapped the chalkboard with his cane. “We won’t be using this. We won’t be reciting rote bull from memory. We will be learning how to create.” He looked around the room. “Get to know the two people on either side of you. You will be working in groups of three for most of this semester, because like it or not, in the world you have to learn how to count on others.”

“That’s us three,” Cara pointed out, before she grinned, “In case any of us were, you know, having trouble counting or something.”

“I’m in a threesome,” Jesse quipped. Both Cara and Leah rolled their eyes.

“What are we going to do with him?” Leah inquired.

“We could light him on fire,” Cara suggested.

“No,” Jesse protested, “Don’t light me on fire.”

Cara cracked a grin.

“But we could light marshmallows,” she pointed out. 

“Why don’t we light somebody else on fire, and I’ll buy the marshmallows?” Jesse suggested.

“Okay,” Cara agreed. “That’s acceptable.”

***

Jesse’s car roared into the driveway at ten past three. He was blasting the radio; it had just finished listening to a collaboration between Limp Bizkit and Xzibit which Jesse couldn’t figure out if he loved or hated; all he knew was that it kept incessantly sticking in his mind.

He pulled out his key, jiggled it, and put it in the lock, walking into the house.

“Aunt Jenny?” he started to call, but he quieted as he heard something coming from the living room. It was the sound of a piano. And a voice. 

His aunt was singing.

_“We all dream a lot -- some are lucky, some are not  
But if you think it, want it, dream it, then it's real   
You are what you feel   
But all that I say can be told another way   
In the story of a boy whose dreams came true   
And he could be you…”_

Jesse smiled. The song was familiar; his aunt used to play it on an old record player she’d had when he was growing up. He lingered in the doorway, silent, as he listened. Her voice was lilting, pretty – soothing. Safe.

He put his hands in his pockets and waited. And listened. 

Things were going to be okay, here. They had to be.


	7. Chapter 7

Jesse spent the night in, watching TV with Aunt Jenny and chatting with her during the commercials. 

“So how come you agreed to take me in?” he asked, wiggling his can of Coke between his fingers. “I’m a pain in the ass.”  
Jenny chuckled.

“No, you’re not,” she replied. “It all fit and worked out nicely. I would much rather have you here than have some stranger come in and take care of me.” She shrugged. Jesse hesitated.

“Am I going to even be any good at it, though? I mean when it… y’know, comes to it?”

She turned to him and smiled.

“Jesse, you worry too much. You’ll do fine.” Jenny gave him a gentle tap on the shoulder before turning her head back to the TV. “Would you like some popcorn?”

“Nah,” Jesse replied. “I’m fine.” His head was still reeling a little bit. Sure, this was fine. Of course this was fine, in fact it was nice. Jenny wasn’t up his ass the way his parents had always been, telling him what he should be doing and what he wasn’t doing well enough. But he was vaguely aware of some kind of feeling in the air that didn’t quite sit right with him, like a ball that kept circling a basket but hadn’t gone in yet.

After all, there was a separation between knowing that Jenny was sick, that she had cancer and was unlikely to make it through another year, and the reality behind it. Jesse had never been up close and personal with death, and he preferred to keep it that way. It had always chilled him to the bone, the thought of being there one second and then simply gone the next.

He didn’t want to think that it was going to happen to her.

Jesse brushed off those thoughts and looked ahead at the screen. Family Feud was on.

“Is it just me,” Jenny commented, “or has this show grown considerably more risqué in recent years?”

Jesse craned his head.

“What was the question?”

“Something you don’t want your partner to talk about while having sex.”

Jesse blinked.

“Yeah, I think you’re right. Maybe they’re trying to keep up with _Newlywed Game_ , though.”

Jenny grinned and picked her own soda off the coffee table. 

“Good point. And at least this isn’t that awful show… what was it called? What’s the one I hate, Jesse?”

Her nephew grinned widely.

“Goddamned _Tattletales_.”

She snapped her fingers.

“That’s it! That’s the worst. I don’t even understand the appeal.”

“That one is really stupid,” Jesse agreed. “I don’t know, I like the one where the contestants have to stay up late. _Cram_. I learned the stupidest stuff from that show.” He grinned again. “Would you go on a game show with me?”

Jenny chuckled. 

“Maybe. It would depend on what I’d have to do! Nothing that has to do with eating bugs.”

“Okay, deal,” Jesse agreed. “I will never make you go on a show where either of us has to eat any bugs.”

***

Jesse spent the rest of the week trying to figure out how exactly he was going to win Christy Morrison’s heart. He had begun to focus on and daydream about her in Mr. White’s class, instead of paying attention to the man’s lectures about carbons and proteins and whatever else he seemed to be on about on that particular day.

She was truly pretty; he was drawn to her oval eyes and soft-looking hair. He could imagine looping his arms over her shoulders and pulling her near, breathing in her scent.

But perhaps what was most intriguing about Christy was the fact that she didn’t seem to regard Jesse at all. It wasn’t as if she noticed his interest and simply ignored him; he’d had that happen more than once and it had made him feel about an inch tall.   
Christy, on the other hand, would respond to his smiles with a nervous turn of her head, as if she shouldn’t be caught talking to him. He didn’t understand it. 

Maybe, Jesse considered, she was being held captive by some kind of evil overlord, from whom only Jesse could save her. She slowly began to figure into the comics he drew, a damsel in distress.

But from what?

***

“Hey, guys,” Jesse began as he plopped down at the cafeteria table on Day Four of Operation Christy-Watch. Paul, Gia, and Kayla looked up with vague interest. “Do any of you guys know Christy Morrison?”

Kayla snorted.

“Are you trying to hit that?”

Jesse looked mildly offended.

“I just like her,” he replied.

Paul cocked his head to the side.

“I wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t what?”

“Wouldn’t bother,” Paul explained. “Christy’s got issues. Loads of ‘em.”

“What kind of issues?” Jesse inquired. He reached down and scooped up a bag of Funyons.

“Well, I don’t know the whole story, but last year she went out with some senior guy who my brother knows. Anyway, he… beat her up or hurt her or _something_ and, well, no one’s getting near her. So don’t bother. Find some other girl to try your game on, Pinkman, because you’re not getting anywhere with Christy Morrison.”

Jesse bit his lip and considered it.

“We’ll see about that.”

***

Jesse liked challenges. Actually, no, he didn’t. He hated challenges, because he had a distinct tendency to fail at them.

So why, exactly, had he decided that he was going to keep on trying to get the girl’s attention, even after Paul had warned him against it?

 _Because I’m an idiot,_ Jesse told himself. _And because I just like her._

And he did. On Day Five of Operation Christy-Watch, Jesse flipped open the notebook that he had set aside for Chemistry and which contained within it exactly three lines actually about Chemistry. 

He noted that Christy seemed friendly with a few of the other girls in the class – she’d waved hello to Deanna and Maya but seemed to talk the most with Pacey Anderson, the girl with short blonde hair and bright blue eyes, who was in turn, as far as Jesse could figure out, a good friend of Maya and Deanna’s.

Keeping track of girls was exhausting.

Jesse knew Pacey; or rather, he knew _of_ Pacey. They were two people who had never and would never travel in the same circle. She was extremely religious – in fact, as Jesse sketched in his notebook, she was in the midst of an argument with Mr. White about evolution. How had they gotten on the subject?

Jesse had missed that part.

“I shouldn’t have to learn this if I don’t believe it. Or we should teach both and let the students decide, Mr. White. Don’t you think so?”

“Miss Anderson, if you want to debate the merits of Darwinism, I think you’d best do it in Biology class with Miss Franklin,” Mr. White was telling her. Jesse looked up at him, and was struck for just a moment at how completely tired the man looked. As if he’d been up all night, every night of his life.

Jesse figured it was the price to pay if you decided you should become a high school teacher.

 _We’re all a pain in the ass,_ he told himself, thinking of the conversation with his aunt.

Well, it was unlikely he’d get an introduction to Christy through Pacey.

He’d just have to approach her himself. Which might turn out to be easier said than done.

Jesse looked back down at his notebook. Life was way more complicated than Chemistry, anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

The next week melted by, ever so slowly. Jesse, to his own surprise, found himself regularly attending class. It wasn’t due to any great love of learning; rather, he just found that he didn’t really want to let Jenny down. Not to mention, he was growing to enjoy the short rides to class with Deanna and Maya, where they spent most of the time bad-mouthing people at school who they didn’t like.

On this particular Tuesday morning, they were discussing Sherri.

“Bitch and a half,” Maya declared. “I mean, seriously. I heard her bragging about all the schools she’s applying to. I hope she doesn’t get into a single one. And that she cries about it, too!”

“Wow,” Deanna said with a grin. “You’re not, like, bitter at all – are you?” She leaned over to look at Jesse. “How’s your aunt doing, Jesse?”

His hands tensed on the steering wheel.

“I don’t know. All right, I guess.” He didn’t know whether Deanna and Maya knew that Jenny was sick, and he really didn’t want to be the one to tell them. Saying it out loud would make the whole thing real. And she didn’t really seem sick, not yet at least. He figured once she started chemo, then that was when things would get… 

He brushed it away. Didn’t want to think about it.

They pulled up into the parking lot and got out, before walking to Mr. White’s class. This time, they were on time. Unfortunately.

“All right, class. Pop quiz.”

Jesse groaned and peeked over at Deanna, who gave him a glare.

“No,” she mouthed, and he turned his head away, only mildly offended. After all, what the hell did he care if he passed the damn class or not? Chemistry was just a waste of time anyway.

Jesse scribbled his name at the top of his paper, then the date: 9/11/01.

***

Jesse’s throat was dry. He couldn’t believe it. He was staring at the television screen with everybody else, but the only thoughts that seemed to stay in his mind were that if this was the end of America or the end of the world or something, he should rush home and make sure that his aunt was okay.

What if the hospitals shut down and she couldn’t get there? What if she got so scared that she made herself sicker and died while he was sitting in English?

He wished he could open his mouth and talk to Kayla about it, but everyone was quiet, silent, in shock, and he couldn’t break the moment. It was just too hard. Plus, as cool as Kayla was, she just didn’t seem the type of person he could talk to about something like this. 

Before long, parents started showing up to pick up their kids. Kayla’s mom arrived when the classroom was about a third full, and she gave a little wave of encouragement to Jesse.

He just kept staring at the board. 

What the hell? He wasn’t ready for this kind of thing. A terrorist attack? That was something that only happened in movies, wasn’t it? None of it seemed real.

None of it seemed real until the door opened and his aunt walked in. She looked shaken, as nervous as he was, but otherwise okay.

Maybe he could have signed himself out. Could he have? He wasn’t sure. Everything was kind of spinning. Everything just seemed totally wrong.

***

“How are you holding up?” Jenny’s voice floated across her living room, reaching Jesse about halfway.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Is this even real? I don’t even…”

She was standing next to him, then, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay. We’re both okay, aren’t we? Everything will be set right, somehow or another. A lot of horrible things happen, Jesse. But good things happen, too. Don’t they?” She smiled. “You have to take the horrible, scary things or else the good stuff doesn’t mean as much.”

She sat down next to him on the couch and put her hands in her lap.

“I was a little girl when President Kennedy was shot,” she told him. “It’s one of those things where everyone remembers where they were. I was sitting in class. Second grade. Your mother was in eighth. The teacher, well, I don’t know how she heard, but she drew all of the blinds and told us and it was as if someone in everyone’s family had died. It was as if somebody reached over and shut off all of the lights.”

Jesse watched her as she spoke. There was some kind of authority about her, but a quiet authority. She didn’t need to scream or yell or belittle. She just spoke, and Jesse would always listen.

He let his head fall to his shoulder. It was too much effort to keep it up. How was he supposed to figure any of this out? It was like there had been some switch when he had turned eighteen, that now he was an adult and that should have meant that he had some answers. But he didn’t.

Maybe no one did.

“Aunt Jenny?” Jesse whispered.

“Yes, honey?”

“You’re… you’re gonna be okay, right?” In that moment, he wished he was young again. That she could lie to him, tell him that it’d be fine.   
Instead, she reached out and took his hand. 

“Everything’s going to be all right,” she told him. “There’s scary things up ahead, but I know you can make it through.”

He shook his head. He didn’t know. 

He wondered about his parents, if they were wondering about him. Whether Jake knew what was going on and if he’d gotten frightened over the whole thing, too. But he wouldn’t call them. They wouldn’t want to hear from him. They’d sounded so done, so final when they had dropped him off. 

Jenny reached out and patted Jesse’s back.

“Let’s just take it one day at a time, okay? I’ll make a pot of coffee and we can watch anything that isn’t the news.”


	9. Chapter 9

Jesse was surprised at how quickly everything seemed to get back to normal. He had expected time to stop, or something, some drastic change, some Apocalypse where people would be selling ration cards on the black market. 

But J.P. Wynne rolled back to its normal routine, albeit with a few more rumors of war and buzz about what it would mean for everyone. A few students professed wishes to join the Armed Forces, while a few others were already digging their heels in as fledgling anti-war activists.

Jesse, a little shaken, went back to his previous goal of trying to get Christy to talk to him, with no success. He’d smile at her in the hall, and she would rush on by. He’d try to attract her attention in Chemistry or Homeroom, and she would just ignore him with a worried glance away.

This somehow served to only deepen her mystery to Jesse. She wasn’t like the other girls. She lacked the foolhardy confidence that Kayla and Gia embodied, and had none of the astute awkwardness of Deanna. He couldn’t quite pin her down, or figure out how to get through to her. Nor could he really figure out why he wanted to so much in the first place. 

“What’s Christy’s story?” he asked Deanna one morning, as he drove her to school. Maya was absent that day; apparently she was visiting family in Las Cruces. 

“Just leave her alone, Jesse,” Deanna replied, exasperated. “I’m not getting into it, but Pacey says she’s been through a lot.” Jesse rolled his eyes.

“Pacey,” he groaned. Deanna reached over and gave him a little slug on the shoulder.

“Pacey’s great. She just comes on a little strong. But anyway… just leave Christy alone. Be nice to her. I swear, Jesse, if you get that girl upset I will take you and throw you off a bridge.”

***

“So, Aunt Jenny… I have a question.”

She looked up from the book she was reading. Clotel, it was called. 

“Sure, Jesse,” she replied. “Go ahead and ask.”

“How do you get a girl to like you? I mean… if she doesn’t seem interested, exactly, but not… uninterested, either.”

“Well,” Jenny suggested, flipping another page and looking over at her nephew. Jesse had his knee of the couch and he had leant in, listening curiously. “Just be yourself.” Jesse groaned.

“Be myself? But who would be interested in me? There’s nothing all that cool about me. I mean, other than the car.”  
Jenny rolled her eyes. 

“Jesse, you are a good kid.” She reached out and weekly squeezed his shoulder. “Any girl would be lucky to have you. But why are you interested in a girl that doesn’t seem to like you? Why don’t you go date Deanna? I think she’s had a crush on you since you two were nine years old and pulling each other’s hair.”

“Deanna?” Jesse considered it, before shrugging. She didn’t have any of the glitz and intrigue of Christy, or of the other girls he’d been interested in. She was pretty weird, and kind of a know-it-all besides. She was a cool friend but… “Nah,” he deduced eventually.

Jenny shrugged.

“Suit yourself, Jesse. You know I won’t tell you what to do.”

At the words, he felt his lip curl into a smile. That was right; she wouldn’t. 

He turned to head up the stairs and back into his room, but he paused on the second step, his arm curled through the railing.

“Aunt Jenny?”

She looked up again.

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

***

“Mr. Pinkman, I’m sorry if you aren’t getting adequate sleep at home, but you are not allowed to sleep in this class.”  
Jesse opened his eyes and raised his head, looking around.   
“Huh?”  
His gaze zeroed in on Mr. White, who was looking at him with an annoyed and faux-patient expression.   
“Oh, hey,” Jesse continued, slinging his hand over the lab bench and sending Deanna’s pencil and notebook to the floor. “Sorry… I just… yeah.”  
“Well, Mr. Pinkman,” Mr. White continued, “If you’d be so kind to tell us the answer to the question I have on the board. That would be great. I assumed you learned it through osmosis while you were sleeping on Miss Escobar’s notebook.”   
“Uh… I can’t,” Jesse replied, rubbing at his eyes.   
“You can’t.” Mr. White repeated the phrase with a sharp curve to it, and Jesse wanted to flog him in the head. Why was he being such a dick? Jesse couldn’t have even been asleep all that long.  
“Uh, yeah. Sorry.”  
“All right. Well, Miss Morrison?”  
Christy looked up, a little dazed-looking.   
“Would you like to tell us the answer?”

Christy looked around, murmured something unintelligible, and stuffed her face back in her binder.

As Mr. White walked back to the front of the room, Jesse could have sworn that he’d heard the man let out a hell of a sigh. 

***

Jesse was awoken by the ring of the phone the next day – was it a Saturday? Or had he just forgotten about class? He was already forgetting and it was still only September. Or maybe it was less forgetting and more not caring. It was fatigue. 

He scooped up the phone, not bothering to check the Caller ID. If he was another damned telemarketer calling to bother his aunt, he could always hang up on them mid-sentence. There was a sort of perverse enjoyment to it. They were just a goddamned pain in the ass. He would never do that job.

“Hello,” Jesse called in a bored voice.

“Jesse. Yo. It’s Badger.”

“Hey Badger.” Jesse’s voice brightened considerably. “What’s up?”

“Not much, brother man. But I haven’t seen you in a hot minute, you know.”

“Oh I know, I know,” Jesse replied. “But… you know how things get. Places to be and hot women to fuck.” He kept his voice low; he was surprised at the flush of embarrassment he felt at the possibility of his aunt walking in and hearing him talk like that. “Been busy.”

“Apparently. You still doin’ the whole, y’know, school bit and all?”

“I guess,” Jesse replied with a yawn. “What about you? What’ve you been up to?”

“Oh, same as usual. Just blazin’ one and keeping the party alive.” Jesse rolled his eyes. Badger’s idea of “keeping the party alive” generally just consisted of their small group of friends passed out drunk in Badger’s house. Or, even more often, just Badger passed out drunk (and on a good day, high) in Badger’s house. But still.

“You free tonight?” Jesse asked. He needed a break from all this shit that kept roaming around in his head. If he could stop thinking about all of it or, hell, just put it on pause for a little while, then he’d be just fine. 

“Aren’t I always?”

“Alright. See you in ten.”


	10. Chapter 10

Jesse lay on Badger’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had just taken a toke off the joint they were passing, and he was waiting for it to kick in. Waiting for his thoughts to settle. Waiting to figure it all out. 

He wished he could open his mouth and say something to Badger about everything with his aunt, not to mention all this shit that had just happened with the terrorist attack. But Badger wasn’t the kind of guy who talked about stuff like that, he was the kind of guy you played video games with and smoked with. 

“Y’know,” Jesse mused. “They said that Marilyn Manson got his ribs surgically removed so that he could suck his own dick.”

“Wow, man,” Badger commented. “That’s far out. Would you ever do that?”  
Jesse snorted.

“No, man. That’s fucked up. Who would want to suck their own dick, anyway? I mean, you end up with a mouth of your own damn…. That’s just disgusting.” He sat up. “What the hell is wrong with people?”

Badger started to laugh hysterically.

“Hey man… hey man… what if you got offered like… a million dollars to do that…”

Jesse curled up his nose.

“No. Man… Badger. Shit, I’ve got standards.” He took another toke. “A man has got to have goddamned standards.”

***

“Well, Mr. Pinkman, what do you think the answer is?” The words seemed to be floating in mid-air. Maybe they were happening in a separate dimension that only intersected with this one every once in a very long while. Maybe… “Mr. Pinkman?”

Jesse felt someone jab him hard in the spine, and he lifted his head. Deanna appeared to be the one who had poked him, and when he looked the other way, he found Mr. White standing uncomfortably close to him.

“Mr. Pinkman?” Mr. White asked.

“Um,” Jesse muttered. Deanna drummed on her notebook. Jesse made another little grunt, wishing she’d stop distracting him from not-answering, until he slowly realized, as he turned to look at her, that she was tapping a very specific part of her notebook. “Uhhh…” He tried to be discreet as he strained to read Deanna’s handwriting. “Nitrogen.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pinkman. Nitrogen. Thank you for your effort.”  
Mr. White shot a glance at both of them, before going back to his lecture. When he finally glided to the front of the room, Jesse looked back at Deanna.

“Thanks,” he mumbled. She sighed and rolled her eyes, not replying, and returned her gaze to the teacher. Jesse rubbed his hands over his face. He couldn’t believe he’d been sleeping in class again. It was so embarrassing, not because he really cared whether he learned anything but because he could feel every eye in the classroom on him, thinking about how useless and worthless he was. He shivered. He shouldn’t have stayed out all night, should have at least had the ability to pretend to pay attention. He’d try and get some sleep tonight. This wouldn’t happen again. Plus, he didn’t need Mr. White calling Aunt Jenny. She had enough to deal with right now without getting burdened with all of Jesse’s continuing failures.

***

Speaking of Aunt Jenny, she wasn’t doing very well at all. The doctors’ visits multiplied, that was for sure, but Jesse didn’t see that they were doing any good. The chemo just seemed to be getting her sick, even as she tried to explain to Jesse that it would help.

“It’s just a side effect, Jesse,” she explained patiently as he drove her home one day the next week. “You see, it kills the cancer cells but other, similar cells get kind of… caught in the crossfire.”

Jesse tilted his head and looked at her. 

“Why don’t they come up with something that… doesn’t do that?”

Even though he knew that Aunt Jenny wasn’t like that, he was afraid that she would say it was a stupid question and refuse to answer it. Instead, she smiled sadly.

“Things like that take time, Jesse. Why, everything takes time.”

“But people don’t always have time,” Jesse whispered. What he thought but didn’t say was, _You don’t have time._

That was when he pulled into the driveway and they moved out of the car, silently going back into the house. Once the door closed behind them, Jenny reached out her arms and hugged Jesse.

“Don’t worry,” she told him kindly. “I’m not scared.”

When she let go, Jesse gaped at her. 

“How can you not be? I mean… You’re… you’re… I mean, all of this.”

She shrugged.

“You know when your mother and I were growing up, she used to be afraid of going downtown in the city?”

Jesse didn’t know, but he nodded anyway.

“She was always worried about getting mugged, or something of the sort. What I used to say was ‘If something’s going to get me, it’s going to get me.’” Jenny looked at Jesse. “If this is going to get me, Jesse, then worrying won’t do a single bit of good. It’ll just waste time. I’m going to just live my life and be happy instead of worrying and being afraid. It just feels like a better way to live, don’t you think?”

Jesse nodded slowly. He didn’t know if he necessarily agreed with all of that. He was glad she didn’t seem to dwell on it, but just the same he didn’t know if he could ever be that unafraid in the face of upcoming death. Hell, if it had been him… He’d have fallen apart. He’d have stopped going to class even as irregularly as he did because what would it matter anymore? And he’d wait for someone to fix it all. But no one would be able to fix it. He’d just be all alone. 

He shuddered. That was the scariest thought. The one thing that no one could ever help you with, the one thing you are just always stuck with alone: death. 

“Hey Jesse,” Jenny said softly, “Why don’t we see if we can find an awful movie on TV? We could make fun of it. And I could make quesadillas.”  
Jesse smiled and slowly nodded. 

“That sounds great, Aunt Jenny. Let’s go for it.”


	11. Chapter 11

Jesse had a dream about when he was young. Very young, five or six, and he’d been in this very house. Maybe even in this very room, but probably not. It was probably still a random guest room back then, and he had rarely stayed overnight given that they lived so close.

In the dream, his parents still loved him. Jake hadn’t been born yet; he was their one and only. Their Jesse. Everything was warm and safe and good. He could smell cookies baking from down the hall, and he ran down the steps and into the kitchen.

It was so close that he could feel it, taste it… 

He burst awake, sat up so fast that he nearly fell over and off the bed. 

Obviously this whole thing had been getting to him. That was the only answer he could come up with. This whole… situation with his aunt, and with his parents kicking him out, it was… he needed to not let it get to him. It wasn’t like he could actually do anything about it, after all. His aunt was either going to die, or she wouldn’t. His parents would come to their senses, or they wouldn’t. It was all entirely out of Jesse’s control.

He sighed and looked at the clock. It was too early to go to school, but too late to go back to sleep if he had any pretense of actually showing up on time. This sucked ass.

Jesse made his way into the shower. He figured that was a way to start on a good note. Maybe he’d impress “the ladies” – maybe he’d impress Christy by making sure he smelled good, had his hair right, took more time picking out his clothes. Did he even own anything that looked nicer? Maybe that was the key. The way to be a better person, a person who other people wanted him to be. A person… oh, what was he kidding? Who the hell was he even, at eighteen?

He turned the shower over to the hottest setting and watched how it turned his pale skin bright red. There was something to that, the way it made him feel. Maybe he wanted to hurt a little, maybe some part of him felt that he should. He didn’t know.

Next was dressing, getting ready and going downstairs. He’d see how Aunt Jenny was doing. Maybe today would be a good day. He’d hurry home today instead of going over Badger’s or trying to score some booze or weed. Today, he’d do things the right way.

***

Jesse had drawn a dragon across his lined paper. He was filling in some fire, using a random red pen he’d found somewhere in his binder, when Mr. White appeared, as if out of nowhere.

“I’m sure that this is incredibly relevant to our lecture, Jesse,” Mr. White opined, and Jesse bit back a response. He wanted to snap at him, ask him why the hell he cared and tell him that he had shit going on in his life that was way bigger than chemistry. What the hell did this have to do with life and death? With shit that actually impacted people for real?

“Yeah,” Jesse mumbled darkly. “It is.”

“Would you like to share your… artwork… with the rest of the class?”

Jesse peeked over to see Deanna with her hand on her hip, looking at him with a disappointed look on her face. Well, forget her. Forget all of it.

But wasn’t today… hadn’t today been the day that he was going to do it all right? The day he was going to make the right choices? Apparently those right choices hadn’t included paying attention in Chem. He lowered his head a little and made a sound. A near growl.

“I was just drawing, yo,” he mumbled finally. “Sorry for not paying attention.” He didn’t look at the teacher, didn’t feel that he could without flying into a rage or worse – so, so much worse – tearing up or breaking down. God, it made him sweat to think of it, the thought of letting the mask slip and letting them all see that inside, the happy-go-lucky face was all that, a face, a mask, a fiction, a…

Luckily Mr. White found himself distracted by something else. Jesse didn’t pay attention long enough to what it was, simply slumped back into his chair and didn’t look at anybody.

He caught a faint scrap of conversation, of Maya whispering to Pacey, “Is he all right?” but he couldn’t focus on it. It was blurry somehow. The edges were creased. There was something in his chest, like he couldn’t quite breathe.

He didn’t want it, didn’t want…

***

He couldn’t really remember what happened between that point and that in which he returned home to Aunt Jenny’s house. When he opened the door, however, there was a clarity, a realization, a renewed promise to do things the right way this time. 

“Hi, Aunt Jenny,” he called. There was a shake to his voice. Maybe it had all been too late. He’d seen movies like this, hadn’t he? Those movies where they made the right choice in the end but they had screwed everything up so badly that it didn’t matter anymore. Where all the people started yelling at the hero, because he wasn’t even really a hero. He was just a pathetic loser.

“Hi, Jesse!” Jenny called back. He saw her enter the room in shuffling steps. She had slippers on. There was a small of tomato sauce from the kitchen. 

“Are you cooking?” Jesse asked. His voice had gone up a few octaves in surprise and relief that she was okay. This wasn’t a movie with some fucked up moral at the end. This was real life. He had chances. 

“That’s right, Jesse.” Jenny replied happily. “I decided to make a pot of spaghetti. First day that I’ve really felt up to eating much of anything since this whole thing started. Would you like some?”

Jesse swallowed. It was like there was a rock in his throat. 

“Sure, Aunt Jenny. I… I would love some.”


	12. Chapter 12

One Saturday in November, Jesse climbed into his car, destination unknown. Maybe he would go see if Badger had found any good weed, or maybe he would try and get into the bar – they were usually pretty good about not carding.

He was surprised to find himself slowing down in front of a stop for the city bus as he caught a glimpse of Deanna, Maya, and Pacey standing there. He honked his horn.

“Hey!” he called out his window. “Maybe I could give you girls a lift.” In his head, it had sounded suave. Outwardly, it sounded something like, “Want a ride, little girl?”

Pacey opened her mouth, looking reluctant, but Deanna piped up, “Sure!” She reached over and opened the passenger side door.

“Uh, Deanna…” Pacey began, “My mother…”

“Oh, come on, Pacey,” Maya urged her, opening the back door and sliding over into a seat. “Live a little. She doesn’t even have to know! She doesn’t even know you’re going to this movie in the first place. You definitely don’t need to tell her you caught a ride with Jesse Pinkman.”  
With a sigh and a look around, Pacey climbed in and sat beside Maya.

“Oh?” Jesse asked as he put the car back into Drive. “What’s so bad about me?”

“Pacey’s mom thinks you’re a juvenile delinquent,” Maya piped up. “No offense.”

“Then again,” Deanna chimed in, “She’s not even okay with her going to see Harry Potter.”

“That’s what you guys are doing?” Jesse asked. It seemed pretty innocent compared to what he and Badger and the rest usually got up to, but maybe that was kind of cool. If they wanted him along, that was – he shouldn’t assume that anyone would really want him along anywhere – it might be neat to take a step back for the day and just do something normal and a little bit corny.

“Yeah. It’s playing at the Multiplex. I heard Draco’s going to be super sexy,” Deanna gushed.

“Oh, forget Draco,” Maya shot back, “I’m interested in Snape!”

“Snape’s such a jerk though,” Deanna replied. “Jesse, have you read it, or…?”

Jesse shook his head.

“No, I mean… But don’t worry about spoiling me! I mean… Hey, why don’t I come see the movie with you guys? I mean… If that’s cool with you, I mean.” Jesse rubbed at his nose as he drove down the road, towards the general direction of the movie theater, which was about a mile past the local mall.

“Sure!” Deanna said. Her eyes actually seemed to light up in the rearview mirror, which gave Jesse pause. Did Deanna Escobar, of all people, have some kind of crush on him? It wasn’t like it would be a bad thing, but he and Deanna had been friends… they’d been off and on friends for such a long time that if that was true, wouldn’t Jesse have noticed before now?

He brushed it off. It didn’t matter. He was into Christy, anyway – that was something he still needed to work on. He would have to show her his true personality, show her that he could be… be what, exactly? Right now, he just felt like a stoner and a loser.

Well, Deanna liked him, at least. Jesse figured that ought to account for something.

“Sure,” Maya and Pacey both agreed, though they sounded considerably less enthused. It was about ten minutes later when Jesse pulled into the parking lot of the theater.

“I’ll buy us all huge butter popcorns,” Jesse offered. 

“Whoo hoo!” Pacey cheered. “Extra butter. Can we get extra butter?”

Jesse grinned. Maybe he was winning over Pacey, as well.

***

“So if you went to Hogwarts, what House would you be in?” Deanna inquired as they walked out of the theater, half-eaten popcorn box still being passed between them. “I’d be a Ravenclaw for sure.”

“Gryffindor!” Maya chimed. “I refuse to even think of settling for less. Pacey?”

“Eh… Hufflepuff, probably.”

“No offense,” Maya said, “But I can see that. You’re such a Hufflepuff.”

“What about you, Jesse?” Deanna asked, shoving a handful of popcorn in her mouth and wiping her hand on her jacket. “I can see you as a Gryffindor.”

“I don’t know,” Jesse admitted, climbing into the driver’s side. Once everyone climbed into the car, he started off in the direction of home.  
At least, so he thought.

“Hey, Jesse,” Deanna spoke up about ten minutes later. “I think we’re going in the wrong direction.”

“No,” he argued, “This is definitely the right direction… I drive up here all the time. I mean, you do a right on Main and then…”

***

A half-an-hour later, a helpful sign informed them that they were no longer in Albuquerque.

“How did you manage to get us so lost?” Maya inquired. “I mean, it’s only a twenty minute drive!”

“I was sure that I made the right turn,” Jesse replied. “Anyone have a map?”

“That doesn’t sound promising,” Deanna chimed in. “We need to find somewhere to ask for directions.”

“I don’t think we need to ask for directions,” Jesse argued, “I mean… I’ll find our way. I think we just need to…”

“Typical man,” Pacey said with a sigh, “Never wants to ask for directions.”

“Pull in here,” said Maya, pointing to a sign. “It’s a hospital. Someone should be around that we can ask for directions. Pacey, didn’t you tell your mom you were only coming to the bakery with us?”

“Yeah. I think I’m grounded for sure. I need to come up with a version that doesn’t have Harry Potter or Jesse in it.”

“Your parents are way too overprotective,” Maya replied, as Jesse took her advice and pulled into the hospital parking lot. He pulled up to a building with a large sign announcing that it was the Eating Disorders building.

“Uh,” Deanna spoke up. “I think we’re at a mental hospital.”

“Who wants to get out and ask for directions? I nominate Jesse!” Maya chimed. 

“Really?” Jesse argued. “Oh man… All right.” He sighed and popped his door open, stepping out and walking up to the front door. He tested it, but it seemed to be locked. On the other side of the front window, a young African-American woman with long braids and a blue dress was sitting and painting a picture.

Jesse rapped on the window, and the girl stood up, walking away presumably to get somebody as Jesse stood there, feeling extremely awkward.

A few moments later, a nurse appeared at the door. She opened it and stepped outside.

“How can I help you?”

“Um… We were trying to find our way back to Margo Street, in Albuquerque,” Jesse explained, “I think we took a wrong turn somewhere and now we’re lost.”

The nurse blinked at him.

“You’re pretty far away from Margo Street,” she replied. “Get on Central and keep going West. You’ll hit it. Just pay attention to the exits.”

“Oh, okay!” Jesse replied with a smile. “Thank you! Oh… and where are we right now?”

She looked at him.

“You’re at a psychiatric hospital,” she told him. 

“I… Yeah, I figured that,” Jesse stammered, “I meant what … uh, road or town.”

“You’re in Rio Rancho,” the woman replied. “You kids are a pretty far away from home.” She pointed out again. “That way. I better get back to, you know… my job.” 

She turned and walked back into the glass room, leaving Jesse there feeling more than a little silly.

“Quick,” Pacey stated, “If we stay too long they’ll probably realize we belong here.”

***

“So,” Maya commented as Jesse pulled up in front of her apartment. “A twenty-minute drive somehow became three hours long, and we had to ask for directions at a mental hospital. But you know what… I had a good time.”

Jesse laughed and looked at her. 

“Glad… to hear it? And Pacey… hope you won’t get in too much trouble…”

Pacey shrugged.

“I’ll just tell my mom I met Maya at the bakery and we decided to go over her house. Or that we took a really long time at the bakery.”

“Sounds… I don’t know. Sounds legit,” Jesse replied. “See you guys in Mr. White’s class tomorrow, I guess?”

“If you show,” Deanna said dryly. “Or stay awake.”

Ignoring her, Pacey looked at Jesse.

“You know, Jesse Pinkman… you’re actually a pretty cool guy. Maybe you should be yourself a little more often.”


	13. Chapter 13

Jesse let out a breath and watched it make a frost of the window next to his desk. If he wasn’t sure that the teacher was watching him and only him (it was English class) as he thought about what he was going to do about Christy. It would be tomorrow; tomorrow he would make a move, ask her out and find out once and for all. If she said no, he’d just have to move on – he couldn’t be a lovesick puppy forever. And maybe sometimes people just weren’t meant to be.

He opened his notebook, trying to act as if he was paying attention to what they were currently learning about… what were they learning about, actually?

He shook his head. He was buried in homework and reading that he had been meant to do but had never got around to actually doing. If he had actually done any of it, maybe he would know what was going on right now – at least that was what his father’s voice was saying in his head, over and over again. Jesse was just careening down an epic path of failure.

The least he could do was to successfully get a girlfriend, right?

***

He started to think his plan probably wasn’t a very good one when he walked into Mr. White’s class the next day and, when he looked at Christy, noticed that she looked away nervously. 

He thought of what they had been talking about at lunch. Was it really true? It made him want to find the guy responsible and wring his neck if it was. Christy was just a kid, like him. She should be out having fun and chilling with friends instead of flinching at everyone. 

“Hi,” he called to Christy. He lifted his hand and gave a little wave, staying far enough away that she’d know he wasn’t going to be creepy and try to touch her or anything like that. She looked down nervously, and Jesse went to sit in his seat. Pacey gave him a warning look, clearly indicating that if he said or did anything to hurt Christy, he would have to answer to her.

And Pacey did seem pretty tough, so the warning was duly noted. 

Mr. White entered the room a second later and started talking all about electron shells, but as usual, it didn’t keep Jesse’s interest. He wondered when the hell anyone was expected to actually use any of this kind of stuff in real life. It wasn’t like he was going to get Christy to like him by knowing what number of electrons went in each shell, after all. Only a real nerd would know that – Deanna probably did, even though she was kind of cool. But definitely a nerd.

Jesse kicked his feet boredly. He’d said “hi”, which he figured was a start. In the movies, there always seemed to be some kind of witty pick-up line, but they seemed much more difficult to come by in real life.

Maybe he should just leave her alone. He didn’t want to bother her, and she did seem nervous. He figured he would just say one more thing, friendly, and then leave her alone if she didn’t seem interested. There was nothing good that could come from being a nuisance, after all.  
He kept going back and forth on it and completely ignoring Mr. White’s lesson. After all, this was the kind of thing that actually mattered in real life, wasn’t it? Not carbons and particles.

Jesse started making a paper airplane, half paying attention to it and ending up with something that was pretty uneven but generally looked like a paper airplane was probably supposed to look.

Then he gestured in Christy’s direction, trying to get her attention. Pacey looked back at him with a warning glance, as if threatening him again that if he hurt her, there would be hell to pay.

Christy turned and shyly looked at Jesse.

“Think I can hit Mr. White with this?” Jesse asked in a conspiratorial whisper. 

“I…” Christy started, then looked around nervously. “I don’t think you can.”

“Wanna bet?” Jesse asked, flashing a big smile. 

Christy looked at Jesse, then looked back down, then over at Mr. White.

“…I…sure,” she stammered.

Jesse pinched his fingers on either side of the paper airplane, then slowly tossed it through the air. It hit the blackboard that Mr. White had been writing on, right above the word “electrons”. Jesse quickly slinked right back into his seat and tried to act as innocent as possible. He peeked over to see Christy leaned over in a fit of silent laughter. 

“Who threw that? Anyone want to come clean?” Mr. White demanded.

Jesse hid his head behind his desk, trying to stop from bursting out laughing. He was pretty sure that Mr. White could figure out that it had been him, and he was pretty sure that the man was now glaring at him with every bit of energy that he had in his being. However, Jesse was determined to play it cool. As cool as he could play it with his head wedged behind a desk and quivering. 

He shot another glance at Christy.

“You missed,” she said, and he was surprised to see a huge smile cross her face. 

He waited until after class, then crossed over near her as she moved to head out of the room.

“Hey, Christy.”

She turned and looked at him, blushing a bit.

“Jesse,” she replied.

“I was… do you want to… I mean I know it’s kind of weird but do you want to hang out or something? The movies or something?” Jesse asked, trying to figure out a work-around for “I barely know you and it seems like you don’t even really trust anyone but I think you’re super-hot.” 

He was sure that she wasn’t going to react particularly well to whatever the hell he had just stammered out.

He could have fallen over when she smiled again, looked down and then up at him and said, “…Sure. Let’s go to the movies or something.”


	14. Chapter 14

It was a little after seven o’clock at night when Jesse appeared on Christy’s doorstep. He gave a gentle knock at the door and found himself hoping the Morrisons didn’t put stock in the rumors that tended to fly around about Jesse; admittedly, some of them were true, but none of them were things he figured a couple wanted to hear about the guy taking their daughter out on a date.

He was holding a bouquet of flowers that he’d picked up at a shop around the corner. He didn’t know how they ranked, exactly – flowers all looked pretty similar to him, after all – but he figured she might like them.

The door opened, and a tall, middle-aged woman with dark brown hair appeared. 

“Hi. You must be Jesse,” she said kindly. “I’m Mrs. Morrison. Christy will be right down. Come in.”

Jesse’s heart began pumping and he started to think that this had been a bad idea all along, that nothing good could come of this. 

He stepped inside, looking around for anyone who might decide to shoot him in the face. He’d seen enough movies to know that most parents didn’t want someone like him hanging around their little girls – the only one who didn’t seem to have minded had been Deanna’s dad, and that had probably just been because they were only friends. If he had started sniffing around in that tree he would probably get buried in some backyard somewhere.

Inside the living room was a leather couch and a TV set that was tuned to some kind of Lifetime flick. A woman was confronting her husband, saying that he was cheating on her, and he had begun to yell about how he had always been in love with his brother instead of with him. 

Mr. Morrison, or at least the man he assumed to be Mr. Morrison, was sitting there with some popcorn.

“Hi,” Jesse said nervously. “I’m here to meet Christy.” He was suddenly hyper-aware of everything about himself from his hair down to his shirt, his shoes, the way he talked and how he walked. 

“Yes,” Mr. Morrison said, getting up. “She’s told us about you.” Jesse didn’t know if that was good or bad.

“Oh,” he said, figuring that worked as a response to either one. 

“Listen, I just wanted to say… take good care of Christy, okay? I think it’s good for her to have a…. friend… But I don’t want her heart to get broken.”

“I don’t want to hurt her either, Mr. Morrison,” Jesse agreed. He wondered if the man was going to pull out a shotgun and start raking the slide sometime soon. He figured that he had better talk fast. “I like her a lot. I mean, it’s still really early but I… I like her.”

Jesse was saved from having to speak any more on the matter by Christy descending the staircase. She was dressed in a blue blouse and jeans, and Jesse found himself pretty glad about that. He hadn’t particularly dressed up himself, after all, and what the hell was he going to do if she had shown up in something like a prom dress?

“Hi, Christy,” Jesse said, extending his hand. She shook it, then gave him a friendly one-armed hug. 

“Be back by eleven,” Mr. Morrison warned.

They started out to Jesse’s car.

***

“So, what do you want to go see?”

Christy looked down at the floor, seemingly nervous.

“I mean,” Jesse started, “I’m up for anything, I mean, movie-wise. Even something super chick-flick, I mean… I just think it’s kinda cool, hanging out with you.”  
Christy turned and looked at him.

“Why?”

“What do you mean?” Jesse stared at her, mind-boggled.

“Why is it cool to hang out with me?” Her voice was rising a little bit, getting sort of shrill, like she was holding on to something. Jesse was still confused.

“I mean, um, well, you’re nice, and… well, you’re hot, too. That’s part of it.”

Christy laughed nervously.

“Hot? Seriously? That’s the best you can come up with?”

Jesse shrugged.

“Well, yeah. I mean… I think so, at least. And like I say, you’re nice. Some of the girls in our classes I mean… no offense or nothing if you’re friends with some of them, but a lot of ‘em are bitches.”

“You seem to like Deanna.”

Jesse shrugged.

“She’s all right. We’re friends and stuff.”

“I thought you two were a thing.”

Jesse laughed.

“Me and Dee? Nah… I mean… She’s cool and all. But it’s not like that. We’re friends. From way back. We kinda grew up together. She knows my aunt and stuff.”

“Ah,” Christy said. She looked away for a moment.

“Listen, Christy, if you’re not ready to hang out or whatever, that’s cool,” Jesse said. It sounded kind of weird, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to do this anymore either, but he didn’t think it was that exactly. The whole thing had just gotten kind of weird. He didn’t know really what to say to her. 

“No, it’s cool,” Christy said. “I just don’t know that… I don’t know if I’m ready, like you said, I guess.”

Jesse wondered about that. It wasn’t like they were doing anything that serious. They hadn’t even gotten to the movie yet. 

Maybe it was different, though, depending on who you were. After all, Jesse wasn’t ready for a bunch of stuff himself – he didn’t have a job, and he didn’t want to get married and have kids or anything intense like that.

“Listen,” Jesse said, dragging his hands over his face. “It’s no big deal. I ain’t going to be mad. If you want to hang, we can hang. If you don’t, I can take you home. And I won’t talk any shit. It’s not like that. I’m not that kind of guy.”

Christy looked at him with a sad smile.

“We’d be cool?” she asked. “I mean… I do like sitting next to you in Mr. White’s class. You make that class more fun.”

Jesse grinned widely.

“I promise to keep on driving that old man nuts.”

Christy laughed.

“All right. I mean… The movie’s okay. Just no…” She took a moment to gesture with her hands, “…Stuff.”

“I promise you a stuff-free evening,” Jesse replied. He extended his hand. “Shake?”

She shook his hand.


	15. Chapter 15

When Jesse got back in, Aunt Jenny was sitting and watching TV. Jerry Springer, to be precise.

“I didn’t even know this was on this late at night,” he commented, taking off his jacket and hanging it from a doorknob.

“It’s a marathon,” Aunt Jenny explained, “They’re showing the wildest episodes or something like that.”

“Isn’t it all fake?”

She shrugged.

“What isn’t? I think everyone’s a little fake when they have to be. If everyone was their real selves one-hundred percent of the time, everyone would be killing each other ‘cause no one would like anything anyone else told them.”

Jesse sat down beside her.

“You’re probably right.”

“How did you date go?”

Jesse shrugged.

“I don’t think it’s going to work. Not as a boyfriend-girlfriend thing. I don’t know what it is she wants.”

“You should give her time to figure that out,” Jenny told him, “Don’t give up on her so easily.”

“But I don’t know what I want either.” Jesse looked down and kicked one foot with the other. “So it’s probably better to just… not. Maybe we could stay friends. She’s a good person. I like her. I just never know what to do. It’s not… there’s something off about it all.”

“Jesse… You have to do what’s right, and if something isn’t right, you have to do what’s right… But you also need to make sure you can’t find fault with everything, because you’re not letting yourself be happy then, either… Does that make any sense?”

“It does,” Jesse replied, “But… I don’t know. Maybe now isn’t the time. I mean it’s high school. I shouldn’t be looking for anything serious. People don’t get married out of high school anymore, and thank God.”

Jenny laughed.

“That’s right. If I had married my high school sweetheart, well…” She trailed off.

“Well, what?” Jesse asked. “You know, you never tell me anything about what you and Mom were like when you were growing up.” He scratched at his ears. “Hardly ever, at least. Was she always so…”

“High-strung?” Jenny asked with a grin. Jesse blushed.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, not always. But when she was a little kid she was always a girly-girl, and I was like… a weird hippie artistic type of kid. I always wanted to go to art school. I think that’s where you get it from.”

“Why didn’t you go? To art school I mean?”

Jenny shrugged.

“There’s never enough hours in the day, Jesse.” She looked at him and took his hand. “Don’t let anything stop you from fulfilling your dreams, okay? Because sometimes you turn around and it’s too late.”

Jesse swallowed hard. He didn’t want to cry, not now. Not like this. She had a point – his whole life was ahead of him. Everything he complained about seemed insignificant. 

“Okay,” he whispered, “I promise. All right. I’m going to go out and be who I want to be.”

***

The next day at school, Jesse shot a smile and a wave in the direction of Christy.

It wasn’t going to work out, but that was okay. There were a lot of people out there, after all, and it was pretty unlikely to find the love of one’s life in high school. That was, if Jesse even wanted to find the love of his life. He didn’t want to be in some cheesy romance novel, after all. He wanted adventure and excitement, wanted to live large while he still could. He couldn’t really picture himself settled down, not now. Maybe one day. But he wouldn’t be like his parents. They were slaves to that ideal.

He didn’t want to wake up every day wondering what he would be like if things were different. He didn’t want Christy to grow up into his mom and he into his dad, having one perfect son and one rough draft. Would he then turn around and have to deposit one of those sons on the doorstep of Jake? 

No. He wasn’t ready for that, never wanted to become that. However his parents had gone wrong, or gone right – he didn’t really know, based on whose opinion? – that wasn’t the way that he wanted to go. He knew that much.

“Jesse!” He was interrupted by Deanna hissing behind him. Mr. White had called on him yet again, and yet again, he hadn’t had anything to offer other than a confused look. Jesse had made up his mind by now that he was likely going to fail chemistry, and he was kind of okay with that.

When was he really going to need chemistry, anyway? This life stuff was way more complicated than bonds and reactions, but it didn’t seem like there were going to be any classes teaching him how to handle that stuff. Or how to make lots of money in a quick amount of time. 

But just the same, he was supposed to say something. And as much as he tried to come up with something witty or sarcastic to say, nothing came to mind.

“Uh, could you ask that again, Mr. White?” he managed instead. Mr. White looked at him and shook his head.

“Jesse, you need to pay attention,” he chastised, and it looked like he wanted to say more. Instead, he finished up by simply saying, “Jesse, can you tell me how many protons are in sulfur?”

Jesse looked back and shook his head.

“Uh… No, Mr. White… I… I don’t.”

He was surprised that he felt embarrassed to admit this. 

***

“Jesse,” Deanna nagged at him in between classes, “You know, you could be pretty smart if you actually bothered to pay attention.”

“What are you, my mother?” Jesse inquired. His head was on a swivel, and he was already trying to plan out something else. He and Christy hadn’t worked out, but that didn’t mean that he was going to spend his whole senior year single, or chaste, or whatever else people might be thinking of him. “Who’s that girl over there?” He was pointing to a tall, thin girl with short brown hair.

“That? That’s Leah Craigmile. You know, the girl who can’t stand you.”

Jesse smiled at her.

“That’s what you say now.”

“No, that’s what she says all the time.” Deanna put her hands on her hips and sighed. “Do you have some kind of plan?”

Jesse pretended to tweak an imaginary moustache.

“But of course, Dee. Of course.”


	16. Chapter 16

Jesse was lying down in bed when the phone rang. He pulled his pillow over his head and groaned. He had been sleeping for hours, but it didn’t feel like he had gotten any sleep at all. He scurried further under the blanket and tried to trap himself in a tiny fort, keeping all light and sound out.

“Jesse!” his aunt called, and Jesse sighed. He waited another few moments before he heard the call again, and he pushed the blanket off and hopped up. He pulled pants on over his boxers and went out into the hall.

“Huh?” he called to Jenny, and she smiled at him.

“It’s your mother on the phone,” she told him, and he rubbed at his face with fatigue. 

“I don’t want to talk to her,” Jesse told her. “I don’t have anything to say to her.”

Jenny pulled a face.

“Jesse, my dear. Come talk to her. For me. Do it for your lovely, favorite aunt.”

Jesse pulled a similar face in response.

“Okay, okay.” He shuffled over and took the phone out of Jenny’s hand. “Hey.”

Mrs. Pinkman’s voice came through on the other line, but it was awkward and slow-coming.

“Hi… Jesse. How are you doing?”

“I’m… uh, okay. How about you, Mom? How are you?”

“I’m… doing good. Jakey is doing great. He’s top of his class.”

Jesse ogled, even though he knew she couldn’t see him.

“In kindergarten?”

“Jesse, don’t laugh. It’s important to start children off right. He’s so smart. He’s really going places. If only…” she trailed off.

“If only I could have been like him? Is that what you mean? Well, I guess you got the rough draft out of the way before you could move on to the good copy. And now you can crumble up the rough draft, throw it away and never think about it again.”

“Jesse! Do not talk to me this way. You don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand?”

“You don’t understand being a mother, and wanting your children to grow up in a way that makes you proud of them. And getting to a point where it’s…”

“Where it’s what?”

“Where you realize you can’t do anything, because they’re choosing their own way. And then you just hope that they’ll come back the right way.”

Jesse wanted to slam the phone down, but he didn’t want to upset Jenny. He was rooted to the spot, listening to this, even though he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to hear it all over again. 

“Just let me go, then,” he mumbled.

“Why would you say something like that, Jesse?” his mother asked. “There’s no reason to say something like that. Your father and I do a lot for you, and it’s hard to keep all our balls in the air sometimes, especially when you aren’t helping us.”

Jesse laughed, because it was all that he could think to do.

“Balls in the air,” he quipped. His mother mad a disapproving noise.

“I hope you’re doing well, Jesse. Don’t you run Jenny ragged or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” The next thing that Jesse heard was the dial tone.

***

When Jesse arrived in Mr. White’s class that morning, he was still fuming.

“What’s going on, Sasha?” Deanna asked him, and he turned to stare at her in confusion. Deanna snickered.

“Spyder Games. It’s a soap opera on MTV. It’s quite addicting.”

“And there’s a girl on it named Sasha?” Jesse asked, not quite grasping it still.

“No, it’s a guy named Sasha. He’s super cute. A lot cuter than you.”

Jesse looked at her again with sudden interest. Was it true, as he suspected from time to time, that Deanna has some sort of crush on him? He was mildly flattered, but didn’t really know what to think about it. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with Deanna, per se, but she wasn’t the kind of “hot girl” Jesse usually was interested in. She was a friend, and that was as far as it went. 

“Wow, I’m just going to go home and crawl into a hole now, Dee,” Jesse said dryly. “I don’t know how I can live anymore, not being more attractive than a guy on MTV.”  
Deanna mimed a tear running down her cheek.

“It’s a horrible world out there. All we can do is cope.”

At that moment, Mr. White walked into the room, scanning the students with a look in his eye like he was going over his life and trying to figure out where he had gone so wrong.

“Pop quiz,” he announced. Jesse cursed under his breath. He didn’t know if Mr. White was married or what, but if he was, his wife must be giving him a hard time and he has to take it out on the students. If he wasn’t, well, Jesse guessed he was mad that he wasn’t getting any.

He looked over at Deanna with a plea in his eyes. Couldn’t she just take the quiz for him or something? She would know what was going on. She had paid attention during all of this stuff. Shouldn’t he have done the same thing? But his mind had been elsewhere, and as Mr. White handed out the papers, Jesse looked around desperately for something on the walls that would give him an answer. Some clue. Some burning bush, some sign from beyond that would help him. Because he definitely needed it. 

“Jesse, eyes front,” Mr. White instructed as he put a piece of paper in front of him.

Jesse looked down at the paper in front of him. It was blurry, and it seemed like all the words were some other language. Even the ones that had previously been familiar seemed to be spelled wrong, and he started scribbling them out and trying to write them over again some other way, the way that they should be spelled. 

His pencil was ripping through the paper.

He hadn’t even managed to get his name on there properly. His hand hurt, and his head started pounding. How did Mr. White expect him to do this? Expect him to be here?

He stood up, wadded the test into a ball, and threw it to the ground.

Then he turned around and walked out.


	17. Chapter 17

“Do you vote for somewhat-corny or super-corny?”

Jesse looked up from the piece of pumpkin pie he was currently engulfing and looked lost in thought.

“Well, what am I voting for?” he inquired.

“What Christmas movie we’re going to watch,” Jenny told him. “It’s only two weeks from now, after all. We need to make sure that we’re in the right spirit for the season and everything.”

Jesse looked through the selections with a sigh. He could remember back when he’d been a little kid, back when his parents had actually liked him, or at least pretended to. Christmas had been the best time of the year – there had been eggnog, and little train sets going around, and gingerbread houses. The Pinkmans really went all out. They’d go over to Jenny’s for Christmas Eve and up to Jesse’s grandparents on Christmas Day, and he would get piles and piles of gifts.

They hadn’t gone in a couple years, now. There just hadn’t been the time or the energy. Everything had been focused on Jake’s birth, and then his first-everything, his first walk, his first words, his first smile. They’d taken so many pictures and sent them out, and they hadn’t had much time for Jesse and what he might have wanted to be doing.

Not that they ever asked.

But Jenny asked; she didn’t seem to be tied up in the 24/7 Jake bonanza that Jesse’s parents subscribed too. Occasionally, that made Jesse a little sad. After all, Jenny was sick – she wouldn’t last too long, and by the time she died, maybe Jake wouldn’t really get to know her at all. He would see pictures, maybe, and maybe he would hear stories or maybe he won’t. Maybe he wouldn’t even think of her name, not really.

She’d be some kind of wisp in the wind for him. But not for Jesse, never for Jesse.

He didn’t like to think about what would happen when she was gone. What the hell was he going to do then? He wasn’t going to have anywhere to live and, more importantly, he wasn’t going to have anyone who cared about him. Not like she did, at least. Someone who stayed up to wait for him to get home.

“Super-corny,” Jesse said finally, with a smile. “How corny do we have?”

“Well, I was thinking Christmas Eve on Sesame Street. That’s pretty corny, isn’t it?”

“Well, I guess you could have gone for cornier,” Jesse said, “But that one’s kind of a classic. Didn’t I watch it all the time as a kid? I remember for a while I used to watch that shit every time I came over here.”

Jenny smiled.

“Yes… Yes, you did. You used to insist.”

“But didn’t that get annoying? I mean, you didn’t want to see some kid’s movie again and again.”

Jenny shrugged. 

“I liked hanging out with you. You were a fun kid. Now, come on. Give me an excuse to watch this and cry – when Big Bird nearly freezes to death on the roof, my heart falls all over the place.”

***

“You know,” Deanna commented, leaning into Jesse’s ear as they waited for Mr. White to show up, “In college you get like, a month off from school for winter break. How come we only get a week?”

“It isn’t very respectful to Jesus,” Pacey agreed.

“Who cares about Jesus?” cut in Maya, “Sleep is what’s most important!”

“I disagree with that,” Pacey told her. 

“All right you two, break it up,” Deanna told them, “Seriously. If this is going to be another time like when you went on about the theory of evolution for a full forty minutes, count me out.”

“Where’s Mr. White, anyway?” Jesse asked. Pacey shrugged.

“Maybe he had car trouble. Even teachers aren’t perfect, you know.” She cocked her head to the side. “Especially ones who try and shove incorrect theories down your throat.”

“Evolution doesn’t even have anything really to do with chemistry, Pacey,” Maya argued. 

“God has to do with chemistry,” Pacey argued. “God has to do with everything.”

Jesse started to zone out. While he thought Pacey was a nice enough person, this was an argument he’d heard enough times that he didn’t really want to sit through it again. He also couldn’t help but wonder, if Pacey was right and there was some kind of all-knowing being responsible for everything that went on in the world… Then why would that all-knowing being make his aunt sick? Nothing really made sense. If there was a God, he was a jerk, and if there was nothing out there, that was just depressing.

“Maybe Mr. White’s sick,” he spoke up instead. “Maybe he got…like, malaria or something.” He wouldn’t say the first thought that had come into his head – maybe he had cancer too, like Jenny. Maybe the whole world had it and everyone was just rotting away on the inside and it took years to figure it out and by then it was too late.

Deanna rolled her eyes.

“No one gets malaria around here. I think you need to live in the tropics for that,” she offered.

“You could have fooled me last summer,” Maya argued. “I’m pretty sure Albuquerque qualifies.”

The door opened, and Mr. White appeared. Jesse noticed that unlike his usual confident self, he looked bedraggled and more than a bit defeated. He wondered dryly whether maybe, for a moment, Mr. White had wandered into the mindspace Jesse occupied every day. Or maybe, despite what he had been thinking, maybe the grass wasn’t always greener on the other side. After all, Mr. White needed to deal with a bunch of eighteen year old idiots (of whom Jesse gladly considered himself a member) all day. Didn’t he have any dreams before that? Better than that?

It was going to be Christmas – Mr. White had a wife, didn’t he? Was he going to spend Christmas with her? Was he going to sit around and watch corny Christmas movies and drink eggnog?

Jesse looked down at his notebook and shook his head.

The things people took for granted.


	18. Chapter 18

It was odd to think about how bitterly cold it could get in Albuquerque. Jesse spent so much time complaining about how hot it was in the summer, that he didn’t remember much about every bone-chilling winter, where his trademark hoodies and even his winter coats couldn’t put a dent in it half the time.

It worried him how much the winter seemed to be affecting Jenny, as well. She wasn’t quite herself – she stayed in her bedroom and cranked the heat up full blast, but always seemed to shiver nonetheless. 

She always sent him off to school, however.

“Go learn, Jesse,” she always said, putting on a smile that seemed to be for his benefit. “You’re going to need these things one day.”

Jesse shook his head, but went on to school anyway, hopped in his car and drove Deanna into the big parking lot without a word. 

“You seem quiet today,” Deanna spoke up. “I’m not used to life without you bouncing off the walls everywhere.”

“I just don’t feel it,” Jesse mumbled. “I mean… It’s just… I don’t want to talk about it.” He raised his eyes and glared at her, then changed his mind about it. It wasn’t Deanna’s fault that he was so angry. It wasn’t really anybody’s fault; but that was what made it worse. If there was somebody he could punch in the face, then he’d go do it already. But there was nobody. Just him. If he could punch himself in the face, he would have. Maybe that would have made him feel better. “I just… She’s sick. And there’s nothing I can do to help. Nothing’s going to ever change anything.” 

Deanna turned her head and looked at him, nodding.

“It can be… I mean, I know it can be hard. Even if you know there’s nothing you can do and that it’s not your fault, there’s this little voice in your head that wants to blame you for everything that goes wrong.” She blushed a little bit and then looked away. “I guess… I’ve sort of been there.”

Jesse looked down.

“Oh, shit. Your mom right? I shouldn’t have said…”

“No, Jesse, it’s fine,” Deanna said quickly. “I mean, it was a long time ago.” She smiled at him. “I mean… Yeah. But I know about wishing things could be different, and I know about blaming yourself. I also know your aunt, and I know she doesn’t want you to get bogged down in that. She loves you. You know she would talk about you all the time whenever we talked? Even before you moved in with her. She’s all excited about you.” 

“I don’t know why she would be,” Jesse replied with a shrug. “All I ever do is screw up. I’m failing all my classes, I don’t understand shit about what’s going on. I can’t even figure out where I’m at from day to day, Dee. What’s to be proud of in that?”

“Oh, get over yourself,” Deanna cut in. “You could be so much worse. You could be in jail for murder, or… you could be on America’s Most Wanted, or you could be…” Her lips curled into a devious grin. “You could star in some really strange kind of porn.”

Jesse blinked at her and cocked his head to the side.

“Oh?” he asked. “What would you know about some strange kind of porn? You’re such a goody-two-shoes that… Well, you probably came out of a nunnery or some shit.”

“Nice comeback, Jesse. I’m sure that took you a while. Honestly… Just because I don’t get it trouble all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have a dirty mind.” She leaned forward and propped herself up by her elbow, on the dashboard. “I’ve read the Marquis de Sade, you know.”

“The what de what now?”

Deanna grinned at him.

“Look it up online. Blow your mind, Jesse.”

Jesse snickered.

“Okay. I’ll look it up. But there’s nothing I haven’t heard, yo. This mind don’t get shocked.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Jesse pulled into an open parking spot. 

“I guess so. Hit me with your best shot.”

***

“Hey Aunt Jenny,” Jesse said as he stepped back into the house. When he didn’t hear a response, his heartbeat began to quicken. Don’t panic, he tried to tell himself. Nothing good was going to come out of panicking. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation; she must just be sleeping, or maybe she stepped out. 

He rocked on his foot for a moment, feeling suddenly out of his depth.

“Jenny?” he called again. He began to make his way up the stairs, digging his nails into his palms. He needed to stay calm. Freaking out was not going to help the matter. He was here to help her, wasn’t that what he was supposed to be doing? He couldn’t act like a kid; he was supposed to be her caretaker.

But there was a little voice in his head that said he needed to get on his phone, call his mother, ask her what he should do. 

He pulled open the door to her room, only a second later wondering what he’d have done if she’d been naked or something equally embarrassing.

She was lying down, eyes shut, chest rising and falling. Something didn’t seem right, however. 

“Jenny?” Jesse called again.

Maybe she was just sleeping. Maybe he was making a big fuss over nothing, getting his blood pressure up over a danger that was only in his head.

But he wouldn’t risk it.

“Jenny?” he called one last time. She didn’t stir.

He ran back down the steps, grabbed the phone off the kitchen wall, and called 911.


	19. Chapter 19

Jesse was certain that he was going to wear a new hole into the floor, that he was going to fall into whatever was below it. He hoped that whatever was underneath was something that would swallow him up, would eat him alive, would make it so he didn’t have to face this. He might never see her again. That might have been their last conversation… He started to shake, to press his face into his hands. 

He had called his parents. They had said they would be on their way, once they had someone to come watch Jake. He figured they didn’t want to expose him to all the death and despair in this place, and he found that he couldn’t blame them.

The doctors had yet to tell him anything, or let him in to see her. The ambulance had come, maddeningly slow, and they had carted her away with barely a glance at Jesse. 

Now he was out in the waiting room, sitting down, and they only wanted to hear from “immediate family”.

He was the one who lived with her, the one who took care of her, but he wasn’t immediate enough for them? 

So he wasn’t going to hear shit until his mom got here. Her sister, who was taking her time getting here. If Jenny had been waiting on her in the first place, she would have never gotten here.  
Jesse couldn’t stop fuming. He wanted to punch a wall. He felt completely and utterly alone. 

He sat back down and looked up at the TV. An episode of The Bold and the Beautiful was on – Jenny liked that show. Maybe he should watch this one and he could tell her what happened, when she woke up. She loved hearing about all of the crazy things that Brooke got up to; she was her favorite. 

He was halfway through the third argument over somebody cheating on somebody else when he felt a tap on his shoulder. 

He jumped up, almost standing at attention like he was a soldier or something. Maybe this was someone with news, with the worst news, and he didn’t want to be seen slouching. He didn’t want to think back on this moment as just another time that he’d failed the woman who had cared about him most.

“Jesse.”

Jesse let his shoulders slouch as he realized he was looking at his mother.

“Oh,” he mumbled. “Hey.” He didn’t have the energy to talk to them, not now.

“Have they told you anything?”

Janet Pinkman looked as if she’d spent hours doing her hair, for just an occasion such as this. Jesse thought to himself that maybe she had a wardrobe for this, hospital chic – you had to keep up appearances, even under the worst possible circumstances. God forbid anyone see her and judge her, or, worse, find out that she was related to Jesse in some way.

“No,” Jesse said, listless and pointing in the direction of the reception desk. “They say I’m not immediate family enough.”  
Janet strutted up to the desk and tapped on it. 

“Excuse me. I’m here to see Jennifer Carlow. I’m her sister Janet.”

“Hello Miss Carlow…”

“Mrs. Pinkman,” Janet cut in, “And I don’t want to be kept waiting. My son brought her in. What’s the news on her condition?”  
Jesse had to admit he was a bit impressed to watch his mom shut down the receptionist like that. She was a tough woman; he knew that much. He just didn’t like it when she felt that the person she needed to be tough on was always him. 

He had to admit, though, sometimes it came in handy. 

A moment later, the nurse led them into Jenny’s hospital room. She was sitting up, hands in her lap, looking incredibly lost.

Jesse’s breath was catching in his throat. She looked awful, beaten, withered… but she was alive. 

“Aunt Jenny!” 

Before his mother could caution him to stop and slow down, Jesse was over at her side and had wrapped one of her hands in his.

“Jesse,” Jenny whispered, waving her free hand. “They can’t get rid of me.”

Jesse nodded, trying to be encouraging, but he looked up at the doctor. 

“Will she be okay? Can she come back home? She won’t have to stay here, will she?”

“Jesse, I don’t think…” Jesse’s father cut in, and Jesse could feel the rage welling up to his fingertips. Why was he cutting in, too? Why did everyone suddenly have a stake in this when he had been the one here since September, taking care of her? He wasn’t a kid. He was the one who should be talking to the doctor, helping Jenny make the right decision. And he knew what the right one was. 

“She’ll be okay to go home, if she wishes to, for a while at least,” the doctor began. 

“What? With a teenage kid looking after her? You’ve got to be kidding me!” Jesse’s father snapped back. “She needs care!”

“That’s right,” Janet agreed. “We’re going to need to look into… well, whatever she needs….”

“Janet,” Jenny began, “I’d really rather… go home. I hate hospitals. You know that. I don’t want to…”

“You’re not able to say what you need right now, Jenny!”

“She wants to come home!” Jesse snapped. “Why don’t you listen to her? It’s not like you two take care of her! I do! And I’ll do it, if I have to stay home from school or whatever, it’s fine!”

“Big sacrifice!” Janet snapped. “You don’t go to school anyway! Jesse, step outside and let us talk!”

“Oh, really? You’re pulling the grown-up card on me now! You’re seriously…” Jesse wanted to pick up something, maybe one of those stupid lamps on the nightstand, and hurl it in the direction of his parents. He could barely keep his breathing under control. He thought for one humiliating moment that he might actually burst into tears.

“Jesse. Janet. Adam. Stop fighting – I’m glad…” Jenny coughed, “That I’m in such high demand. But I’m going home. Come on, doctor. Bring me whatever I need to sign, and then I can be on my way. I’ve got things to do.”


	20. Chapter 20

“So she’s back?” Deanna asked, waving her hand in front of Jesse’s face the next morning. “Earth to Jesse, come in, Jesse.”

“Stop bugging him, Dee, he’s been through a lot,” Pacey chimed in. “We should just let him sleep.”

“Why don’t we have pillows in this class?” Maya chimed. “I heard there’s another senior class, and English class, where everyone sits on pillows.”

“Best class ever,” Jesse agreed suddenly. “I heard it’s only Honors though.”

They all made sounds of disappointment.

“How come Honors gets to sit on pillows?” Pacey complained, then looked at Deanna. “Are you in that class? Do you sit on pillows?”

Deanna nodded sagely.

“We don’t usually get much done, though. We start talking about Native Son but then this one kid always walks out into the hallway. He said he has ADD, printed out literature on it and everything.”

“He probably does,” Maya agreed. “This is why I want to be a doctor.”

“So you walk out in the hallway?” Jesse asked.

Maya rolled her eyes.

“Exactly.”

The door opened and Mr. White entered, looking even more haggard than he did before. Jesse couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him, even with all of his own troubles. They all had dreams, didn’t they? Maya wanted to be a doctor, Deanna wanted to be a therapist (at least that was her current plan, from what she had been telling him on the way to school), Pacey wanted to be… whatever Pacey wanted to be, and Jesse… well, Jesse just wanted a lot of money and for his Aunt not to die.

What was he going to do once he graduated? Graduation meant responsibility, some sort of responsibility, didn’t it? At least he could focus on taking care of Jenny all the time, rather than spending his time doing whatever it was here. It wasn’t like they were planning on setting him up with anything once he graduated – they would cut him loose and then he would be on his own. Not that he wasn’t already, of course. And he hadn’t even gotten to take the class with the pillows in it.

“Jesse,” Deanna said, reaching across to poke him. “Are you sure you’re all right? You don’t seem like yourself.” That was it, then. He needed to commit to acting more “like himself”, whatever that meant exactly. He should be cracking jokes, not caring, being a pain in everyone’s ass.

It had come easily, before.

Why did he feel so empty now, though?

***

He could commit to it, though, if it would get everyone off his back and stop him from worrying about everything falling apart around him.

In the next class he had with Deanna, he sat behind her on purpose. He would bring the “Old Jesse” back to ground.

He waited until the teacher called on Deanna, spending his time planning a perfect strike. He probably would deserve to get punched in the face for this, but it wasn’t like she wouldn’t expect it from him.  
After all, he could still remember turning over the little while audio tape she’d brought to elementary school and coming up with dirty connotations of each and every song. The tape had been “Invisible Touch”, and he had gleefully leered at “Tonight, Tonight, Tonight”, “In Too Deep”, and “Anything She Does” until she had threatened to thwack him. 

Deanna had begun with a very composed response to the question (which Jesse hadn’t even managed to get), but Jesse quickly leaned in and whispered, “Condoms! Penis! Sex! Condoms!”

Deanna immediately started to snicker and basically choked on her answer.

“I… Sorry. I got it.” She turned her head and glared at Jesse before finishing up her answer. When the teacher turned his head, she proceeded to hit him in the shoulder with her book. 

“What the hell was that, Jesse?” she hissed.

“Oooh, Deanna! Tonight, Tonight, Tonight!” he replied.

***

Jesse slipped into the living room, holding his breath. What if he went upstairs and she was passed out again, or worse? It would be his fault. His fault, for not staying home, and his fault, for not insisting that she stay in the hospital. Maybe she would have listened to him; maybe he shouldn’t have gone along with what she was saying. Maybe he’d just been selfish and trying to prove something to his parents when he had nodded at her demand to be sent home. Whatever happened now, he deserved it, it was on him.

“Jesse? Are you home?” he heard Jenny calling from upstairs, and breathed a sigh of relief. She as alive, at least, he could talk to her and care for her and… he didn’t even know what else; he realized suddenly that coming home and seeing her there had become something that he had been kind of taking for granted.

But not today. He wouldn’t take it for granted from now on. The hospital scare had been enough to make him change his ways… but change his ways to what exactly, though? What new leaf could he turn over?

“Jesse?” Jenny called again, and Jesse shook his head to clear it. He’d just have to play it by ear, but he would be determined – he would stop making stupid decisions, he would stop doing the wrong thing. He would be someone his aunt could be proud of, someone his friends wanted to be around, someone that did the right thing and stayed positive.

He just wasn’t sure that those people were all the same person.

He made his way up the steps and plastered a smile on his face.

“Hey, Aunt Jenny. How’s it going?” 

She was sitting on the bed in her nightgown, remote in hand and watching Maury.

“It’s fine,” she replied. “Apparently this woman is ten thousand percent sure that this man is the father of her baby.”

Jesse plopped down next to her.

“I guess we’ll find out,” he told her. He closed his eyes a moment. It would all be fine… it had to be.


	21. Chapter 21

“So should we be thinking about prom? Is that the thing we’re stereotypically supposed to be doing this time of year?” Deanna tossed a chip in her mouth and crunched on it. Jesse watched her from a bean-bag chair. They were in her newly-refinished basement, watching a TV remake of Carrie.

“So that you can use your mind powers to blow up Wynne?” Jesse inquired.

Deanna snorted.

“You can’t say stuff like that, you know. Now they have a zero-tolerance policy and they would act like you were actually going to do it. I feel like they would make Carrie go into counseling nowadays and ask her about her anger issues and shit.” She threw another chip in her mouth and looked up at the ceiling.

Jesse raised an eyebrow and looked over at her.

“Sounds like you know something about that, Dee.”

Deanna rolled her eyes.

“Nope, I wouldn’t know a single thing about sitting around wishing that Wynne would just spontaneously combust and take out all the jerks.” She flashed a smile at Jesse and chuckled. “That made me sound like I’m super morbid.”

Jesse shrugged.

“I thought I was the only one. I mean, not the people maybe… I don’t really know enough people to really be mad at them. But just… the school itself, I guess. So I would have an excuse not to go to it anymore.”

“You think your parents would accept that as an excuse? I know they’re pretty… intense.”

“Yeah, intense about everything the same way Pacey is intense on religion.”

“About everything in the world?” Deanna asked, “And hey, Pacey is a good person. She’s just… I don’t know. Her parents are in one of those churches where I think you have to walk over coals or something in order to get in. They take it all pretty seriously.”

Jesse thought about that. Was there anything he would go through some kind of initiation for? Even for the girls he liked, the people he wanted to impress, he couldn’t imagine himself going that far. There had to be easier things in life, didn’t there? Why didn’t Pacey just go to a religion that was easier to get into?

“So like a cult, you mean.”

Deanna laughed.

“Not a cult exactly, at least I don’t think so. Just… intense.”

Jesse looked up at the ceiling with a sigh.

“Must be nice, I guess… To be… intense.”

“You make it sound like some kind of whacky drug trip.”

Jesse looked back to the TV.

“Should we go to prom together?” he asked.

***

The next day, Jesse’s parents stopped by Jenny’s house. They were unannounced, at least as far as Jesse knew, but maybe they had checked with Jenny ahead of time, and Jenny had simply forgotten to tell Jesse in turn.

But he had made his way down the stairs in the morning to find his parents staring directly at him. He wanted to curl into a ball, or run or maybe hide. He hated that he wanted to do those things – they were just his parents, he wasn’t afraid of them. He couldn’t be; they were simply two people, old people who didn’t know a damn thing about him.

“Jesse,” his mother said, and Jesse froze in his spot and stared down at her. There were a few steps separating them – maybe he could run back up and act as if he hadn’t heard, or perhaps that he had forgotten something. 

He felt like he was standing in front of a tunnel and waiting for the train to run him over.

“Jesse,” his mother repeated, “Your school called. They want to meet with all of us. You’ve got to listen to us – you have to get invested in your future.”

“Jesse,” his father echoed. “I’m not going to tell you twice.”

***

The principal of J.P. Wynne High School was one of those people that Jesse figured had been born to be a principal; quite frankly, he looked like a principal, which Jesse felt was a shame. He was tall and thin, and had a brown moustache that Jesse had always found very distracting because it quivered whenever he talked, as if it was dancing a silent dance that no one else was invited to join.

“Mr. Pinkman,” the principal said, and Jesse figured that he was talking to his father until he realized the man’s eyes were burrowing directly into his own. 

Jesse twitched slightly in his seat. He didn’t want to be here; in fact, he could think of a million places he would rather be, such as on the moon or on a conveyor belt in a sawmill heading towards the saw with increasing speed.

“Yeah?” Jesse mumbled. “What?”

“Your attendance has been disturbingly low in all of your classes, and when you do come to class, you don’t participate in any meaningful kind of way. This is not good for you – you’re a senior, and you should be trying to move towards graduation with the rest of your class.”

“Okay,” Jesse offered.

The principal narrowed his eyes at him.

“We understand that there’s a lot currently going on in your home, what with your aunt suffering from cancer… That must be very stressful for you, Jesse.”

“I take care of her, yo. It’s no big.” Jesse didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to be here, he just kept repeating that mantra to himself, as if he could will himself out of this chair and into anyone else, maybe into space in a rocket or on to another planet where everything was swapped, it was different.

“Jesse, we understand that you’re going through a lot.”

Oh, he was Jesse now.

“So I’m willing to work with you. If you get all your assignments done and don’t miss any more class, you will graduate, I promise you that. But you have to put in the work, Jesse. You can do this.”


	22. Chapter 22

“If I don’t miss any more class,” Jesse pressed his face against the lab bench. “Like it’s my fault that I’ve missed.”

“Well, there were the times you just missed to get high,” Deanna pointed out. “But hey. Who’s counting?”

“That was valuable time, yo. That should be a class.”

Deanna rolled her eyes.

“Jesse, look at it this way,” she pointed out, “You only have three weeks that you have to actually show up. You can do that standing on your head. Just move your weed time to four o’clock and you’ll be fine.”

“Well, at least they don’t expect me to actually pass everything.” He stared down at the three lines of notes he had successfully made during the day’s lecture. “Because I have no idea what Mr. White is even talking about half the time. Do you think he knows?”

“I would assume that he knows. I mean, he went to school for a long time for this stuff.”

“Like your dad did?”

Deanna shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess. Though being a professor doesn’t seem like it’s all it’s cracked up to be. His grad student is always calling because the other faculty are sabotaging him.”

Jesse raised an eyebrow.

“Is it so bad that he’d rather teach here at Wynne?”

Deanna snorted.

“Well… I’m going to take a ‘no’ on that. But… maybe Mr. White just really wants us young kids to get knowledgeable about science, before it’s too late.”

Maya moved back her stool and looked at Jesse.

“For you, Jesse Pinkman, it was too late a long time ago.”

***

Jesse found himself sitting in the middle of his bedroom carpet, staring down at the pile of papers in front of him.

It was hopeless; truly hopeless. Whatever hole he had dug himself into had once had a chance of allowing him to crawl back out, but whatever moment that had been, he’d missed it. 

Deanna had a point, maybe, but it was easy for her to sit back with her involved dad who thought she could do no wrong and her perfect grades and tell him what he ought to do. It wasn’t as easy as anybody could think, as everyone seemed to think, from the damned principal down to his freaking perfect little brother.

He started to chew on the back of his pencil.

He would write something, at least – maybe that would help him find some kind of hope. Maybe.

***

Jesse went to the main office to buy a pair of prom tickets. Maybe this was all connected – maybe it was all, somehow, part of “doing the right thing”, of being the good student, the good nephew, the good son. As hopeless as it all seemed, maybe the only answer was to just do it. To fake it until he made it, to pretend to be something and then somehow morph into it as if that was the normal progression of things.

Weren’t there people out there who were about to do that? To believe things, and to get other people to believe them, by sheer force of will?

Maybe if he could do that, then he could convince his aunt that she wasn’t going to die. Graduation would be a far second, for sure.

He opened the door and stepped into the office, leading the secretary to look up and make a little snort.

He wanted to climb on a desk and start shouting like that guy in the movie who had said that people only accused his students of cheating because they had Hispanic names. Except Jesse didn’t really have the right of way on that one – people tended to accuse him of things because he had actually done them. It was a depressing realization to come to, a thought that he wasn’t sure if he was even the hero in his own boring story.

“Could I get two tickets to the prom?”

The secretary leaned in and made a sound that made it clear she had heard Jesse, even if she didn’t think he particularly needed any sort of acknowledgement.

“Name?” she asked, even though he was quite sure that she knew his already – he had been called up here enough times for various trouble that he had caused or various tasks he had neglected to complete.

“Jesse Pinkman.”

“Date’s name?”

She pursed her lips in a way that made Jesse think she was sure he would say something like “Heywood Jablowme” or “Hugh Jass” as his date’s name.

“Deanna Escobar.”

The secretary made a sound that Jesse would have placed somewhere between “hmm” and “hum”. 

“Sixty-five dollars,” she said eventually, and Jesse placed the money on the desk.

She, in turn, proceeded to slowly wheel her swivel chair over to a series of mailboxes before wheeling back over and placing an envelope on the desk.

“Have a nice day.”

***

Well, Jesse could mark that off his to-do list, at least. He was trying to be normal, at least. He was bringing a girl – not necessarily the girl of his dreams or anything, but a pretty nice girl – to a nice normal dance.

If only his parents could see him now. 

He snorted and made his way back into his aunt’s house. He wasn’t doing it for them, he knew, and maybe he wasn’t actually doing anything at all by going to this stupid dance. Maybe it was the tiniest basest thing that he could delude himself into thinking was helping.

At least Deanna seemed happy about the whole thing, didn’t she? Maybe his senior year wouldn’t be such a bust after all.

Yeah, there was some wishful thinking right there.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains lyrics from "Sk8ter Boi" by Avril Lavinge.

Jesse felt as if he was in a cave, scratching on the wall how long he had been there without being rescued. 

He didn’t miss class, leave early, or come in late, even as much as he wanted to. He could picture himself doing it, and more than once he had been a hair’s breadth away from picking up his Chemistry book and hurling it at Mr. White, declaring “Fuck this!”, dropping out and going home for good.

But then he would see Jenny’s face in his mind, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Maybe he was just a pussy underneath it all, or maybe there was something to all of this that he hadn’t planned on.

And then, there it was, creeping up on him, as much as he had forgotten about it, either on purpose or accidentally.

Prom. 

It was hard to think of it without conjuring up every movie he had ever seen that focused on this stupid event, this dumb dance that everyone was brainwashed into thinking would be either the best night of their entire lives or the worst. The latter was much more likely, Jesse considered as he attempted to adjust the bow-tie that came with his tuxedo.

“You look very handsome, Jesse,” Jenny was telling him. She was so thin and gaunt these days – it was getting harder to remember what she had looked like before all of this had taken hold. 

He shivered. Let this never happen to me, he thought to himself, anything else, just not this. 

Who would even take care of him if that would happen? His parents didn’t even want to take care of him now. 

He’d throw that out of his mind, however. He was supposed to celebrate tonight; that was the idea, anyway. 

He hugged Jenny and told her he would be back before midnight.

“Don’t turn into a pumpkin,” she joked, smiling at him.

He smiled back and stuffed his tearing heart back inside. He wouldn’t cry – it would only make her feel bad, and it wouldn’t help anything.

***

When Deanna stepped out on to her porch, Jesse thought she was someone else.

Not in the kind of way that movies change a plain-looking girl to a beauty queen because she let down her hair. Deanna still looked the same. She hadn’t shed the too-big glasses and her hair was only in a ponytail.

But she was wearing a blue, sparkly gown that made her look… different.

Jesse couldn’t help but wonder if he looked different, too.

***

“So… Somehow I thought it was going to be better.”

Deanna and Jesse were standing against the wall, each looking longingly over at the table of snacks that had been set up in the corner.

“Yeah,” Jesse agreed, “I mean… I guess, maybe I hoped it would be. I don’t know if I actually thought it would be.”

“What about all those John Hughes movies where the prom is the most important thing ever?” Deanna asked. “Maybe we just screwed up, having it at this stupid country club. They haven’t even played any songs I like yet. And I think only one I even know.”

“Yeah, this isn’t exactly what I usually rock out to,” Jesse admitted. “I think this counts as Bad R&B and Hip-Hop You Didn’t Want to Remember of the 2000’s. Destined for the bargain bin.”

“Oh, and what do you listen to, then? Because I could go for some REO Speedwagon in here. Or at least something better than what they have. I could even go for – what’s that song? ‘Slide to the left! Slide to the right!’”

“Criss-Cross! Criss-Cross!’” Jesse supplied, then said, “Yeah, I usually jam to some Twaughthammer.”

“Twaughthammer? That’s the name of your band, right?”

“We’re going to be famous one day.”

Jesse was paused in extolling the further virtues of Twaughthammer by the arrival of Maya and Pacey. Maya was dressed in a bright red dress, while Pacey was in a light blue, long and checkered dress. 

“I’m surprised they let you come to this, Pacey,” Jesse quipped. “Aren’t proms the work of the devil?”

Pacey rolled her eyes.

“Ha. Ha. Funny. They do let me go to dances, you know. We’re not against that. Just, you know. The scantily clad, going to hotels after, that kind of stuff. I had to promise I’d only go to the after-prom, and they’re getting me right at four.” She shrugged. She cocked her head to the side and added, “Oh. This song.”

Deanna’s eyes lit up as she laughed.

“This is my guilty pleasure song, you guys. You better not tell anybody. Dance with me, Jesse?”

She didn’t give him very much time to come up with a reply as she pulled him out on the floor as Avril Lavinge sang:  
_“He was a boy,_  
She was a girl,  
Can I make it any more obvious?  
He was a punk, she did ballet,  
What more can I say?”

“Seriously?” Jesse said, laughing as they danced – or, at least, he figured that was what they were going for. At least he had managed to make it through to prom, hadn’t he? That meant that the end was in sight. Nothing could go horribly wrong now – he’d graduate, and then he could figure out the next step.  
If there was a next step, and there had to be. Somewhere. 

Maybe he could be an artist. Sure, his parents wouldn’t be happy with it and he’d probably not make much of a living, but he could be totally badass. Maybe he could draw the art for album covers or something, and he could start with the first Twaughthammer album. 

Maybe they could even make it an LP, like they were some old-school band. Maybe they could play in Speak-Easies or whatever old people did.

And maybe he’d invite Deanna to come see them. That would be something, Jesse mused, it’d be something. 

The future was coming. Graduation was coming. And, Jesse figured, everything was just a bit all right. If only it could stay that way.


	24. Chapter 24

Jesse woke up earlier than normal on the morning he was set to graduate from J. P. Wynne.

He couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself. Sure, it had been a pain in the ass, and he hadn’t felt like doing most of it (well, if he was going to be honest, any of it), but he had done it. And whatever graduation meant in the grand scheme of things, here he was – with a high school diploma.

He and Aunt Jenny could drive down to Wynne, and when they left, Jesse would be on the right side of things for the first time in his life; at least, it felt that way. 

He even pulled on a shirt that didn’t have any writing on it, as per the graduation dress code. He didn’t really think it mattered, considering the cap and gown would be covering all of it, but he figured that Jenny would be happy to see him looking halfway decent. Maybe his parents would even show.

He sighed; shouldn’t get too ahead of himself on that one. 

Jesse made his way down the hall, stopping to knock on Jenny’s door. It was odd that she wasn’t up already – she usually rose before Jesse did. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well and decided to sleep in. That might not bode well for the rest of the day, however. He’d just have to make it an early night if Jenny wasn’t feeling up to it. It wasn’t like he had plans to go out afterwards or anything; if anything he might just grab a beer with Badger or hang out with Deanna for a bit. Nothing that had to be on this specific day.

He didn’t hear anything. Maybe she was sleeping – but she wasn’t much of a heavy sleeper; never had been, as far as Jesse could remember. Whenever he had slept over here as a child, if he had a nightmare she had always been the one to notice and come get him. Far before his parents, if they even noticed at all.

Not that they were bad parents, exactly, a little voice chirped in his head, but then he shrugged at it. They wouldn’t let him come home.

But that decision had sent him here. To the place where he was doing good, where he was needed. Maybe it had all worked out all right in the end.

Jesse knocked again, and again.

And began to grow worried. He pressed on the door and stepped into her room. It was weird to walk in uninvited, to cross over that threshold. Jenny hadn’t walked into his room without asking, not like his parents did, so it seemed wrong to do it to her.

She was lying in bed with her eyes shut.

She looked like she was sleeping, almost.

***

“Jesse Pinkman?"

Jesse stepped forward to look at the doctor, who looked about Jesse’s age or a few years older. _Great, I’ve got Doogie Howser on the case,_ Jesse thought to himself.

“Yes,” Jesse replied, pushing the sarcasm out of his mind. “That’s me. How is my aunt?”

The pale-faced, pimple-ridden kid looked at him, crestfallen.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Pinkman. Your aunt… she didn’t make it. Is there anyone you would like us to contact…?”

Jesse stared at the wall. He found himself thinking, _but she wanted to see me graduate. She can’t be dead, because I’m about to graduate, just like she wanted._

“Would you like us to notify your parents, Mr. Pinkman?”

Jesse ran his hands over his face and shook his head. He would call them.

He would have to.

***

“Jesse, what the hell!” When he opened the door, that was the first thing Deanna said to him. “You missed graduation! I heard the principal saying he was kind of sorry that he gave you a chance considering that you didn’t even show up. I don’t know, that seemed a bit much to me, but still! What happened?”  
Jesse’s face must have told her something, because her face softened.

“What happened? I mean, you seemed all ready to go and everything and then you just vanished.”

“She’s gone.” Jesse couldn’t make his voice any louder than a raspy whisper. He felt like he was falling. Maybe he hadn’t said it out loud yet because saying it out loud made it true. That she was never going to come back.

She had given him the house, that was what his parents had told him. They hadn’t been happy about it. They were executors or trustees, or something, but Jesse was going to be allowed to live in the house as long as he wanted. 

“…Your aunt?”

Jesse found it hard to focus on Deanna’s voice. He had found it difficult to concentrate on anything since he had come home from the hospital. There was a funeral to plan – who knew how to plan a funeral? That was something that Jesse hadn’t been taught in class.

“I’m so sorry, Jesse.” 

Jesse must have nodded, but he couldn’t really feel his face. Maybe he was dreaming all of this – that was his hope. This all seemed like something that couldn’t, shouldn’t, truly be happening.

“Did you need… is there anything I can do to help?”

Jesse shrugged.

“Maybe just… I don’t know. Be around. Summer’s going to be…”

“Hard. Yeah.” Deanna hesitated, looking away from him. “Listen, Jesse… I have something that I need to tell you. And I… kind of knew it was coming for a little while, but I guess it wasn’t real until now.”

Jesse looked up to meet her eyes. 

“I… I’m moving. Next week,” she told him with a sigh, “To Pennsylvania. My dad… his position kind of… completely fell apart here. It was… it’s been going on a while. But he got a job at Swarthmore. So… you know, that’s cool. And… it means I get to go there. And it’s a really good college. But… it’s in Pennsylvania.”

“…Oh,” Jesse said. He couldn’t quite meet her eye.

Maybe there was something out there that just enjoyed dumping on Jesse Pinkman at any given moment. What had he done to deserve this? 

“I’ll… Maybe I should go… I haven’t… Really been feeling well since Aunt Jenny…” Jesse shuffled in his spot, swallowing. He would not cry. He would not cry.

Even though life kept taking things away.

“Sure… Hey… I’ll see you before I go, okay?”

Deanna smiled at him.

He couldn’t quite see her. His eyes were blurry.


	25. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Contains lyrics from "Stick to the Status Quo" from High School Musical.

The car broke down right outside of Albuquerque, not very far from the compound at all, but somehow on one of the few roads not flooded with police officers coming to look for the Great Heisenberg, apprehended – in death – at last.

Jesse had been walking for miles. He hadn’t been spotted yet; that was the only good thing.

His feet hurt. He was sure they were bleeding. He wished there was a place to stop – maybe to have gotten the car fixed – but he couldn’t stop here, or anywhere maybe. 

His feet were about to crumble beneath him when he looked up and saw: Eagle View Union Church. 

The name sounded familiar, but it took him several minutes to place it – Pacey Anderson. His high school friend, sort of. Her family had run this church. Deanna had talked about going to a birthday party there once.

Maybe he could sneak in the back, if no one was in, and go to sleep for a few hours. Maybe there were some left over wafers and wine he could have.

He pressed his hand against the big wooden door at the front and slowly pushed it in to find it was unlocked. 

He almost ran away when he heard sounds coming from inside. Not just sounds, exactly, but music, he soon realized. Faint at first but then louder as he stepped inside (so tired of running, just need to keep walking). 

_“No, no, no – stick to the stuff you know  
If you wanna be cool, follow one simple rule,  
Don’t mess with the flow, no, no…”_

Jesse found himself in a back enclave, surrounded by a few small desks and a few bookcases that seemed mainly populated with various editions of the Bible. 

Maybe he could slip back in here; maybe a closet. Sleep until everyone left and then sneak out before everyone came back in the morning. Did he dare?

He looked down at his feet and realized he didn’t have much of a choice. If he didn’t stop somewhere now, he would probably collapse somewhere along the road.

Jesse had found a quiet, somewhat hidden spot in the back and was letting his eyes slip shut when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He bolted upwards and let out a loud cry, flailing desperately but knowing it would be for nothing. He was caught; he was going back to the compound or to prison or just going to the depths of death or maybe something even worse.

“…Jesse?”

He kept on screaming for a few moments before he recognized the voice – silly, really, considering he knew the place.

Pacey Anderson stood before him. She was a good eight years older than the last time he had seen her in Mr. White’s class, but she hadn’t changed very much. She had the same blonde hair, still cut into a bob, still wore the same conservative type of outfit – in this case, a sweater over a blouse and a long, flowing white skirt.

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave Jesse a concerned look.

He must have stopped screaming at some point, long enough to look at her.

“Pacey…”

“That’s me. What are you doing here?” She lowered her voice. “You’ve been all over the news, you know.”

Jesse could feel his skin heating up, could feel himself beginning to hyperventilate.

“Are you going to turn me in?”

If this were a movie, he would be coolly reaching into his jacket to retrieve a gun right now, or would be leaning in to give her a sultry kiss on the neck. 

Instead, he was shivering and trying not to burst into tears. This was a girl he had known for years, who he had thought was nice but just a little weird and probably a little too religious for his taste. Now, she might be all he had left. Hopefully he hadn’t made fun of her too many times. It was hard for him to remember if he had.

“No, I’m not.”

Jesse ogled at her, not sure whether she was telling the truth or just toying with him. 

She shrugged, then looked back at him for what felt like a long time.

“Where are you going? Do you have a plan?”

“Not really.” Jesse’s voice was raspy. He hadn’t talked in a long time; maybe he had forgotten how. “My car broke down.”

“You can borrow mine. So long as I get it back once you get where you’re going.” Pacey picked up a piece of blonde hair and moved it behind her ear. “You could stay here tonight. I mean, it’s not much.”

“What will your family say? I mean…” Jesse blurrily remembered Pacey’s parents telling her not to hang around Jesse, saying that he was a bad influence. The thought almost sent him into hysterics, now. 

“Oh, they’re not… It’s just me, now,” she said. “My mother passed away and my father is very sick. I took over the church.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jesse told her. He looked down. 

“I heard about your aunt… I’m sorry, too. I should have said something at the time. Sent a card or something. I was… kind of asleep at the wheel on that. Dealing with my own stuff, I guess.”

“It’s okay.” 

He was surprised; he hadn’t really expected a card from Pacey, or Deanna, or anyone, really. He hadn’t expected anything from anyone in a while. He had just faded away in his aunt’s house. 

And then faded away from himself, eventually.

There was a long moment before Pacey said, “I’m just going to go ahead and lock up the church… Then I’ll show you the house.”

***

Jesse drew up the blanket around himself, having trouble believing that he was in a real bed. The tiny mattress in the grate had been his world for a long time, now. This all seemed a blur.

“Did Deanna go to Swarthmore like she said? With her dad?” he asked Pacey as she walked towards the door.

“She did. Still up there, too. Working for some research gig, the last I heard from her.” Pacey turned and chewed on her lip. “Is that your plan? Head up that way and find Deanna?”

Jesse hadn’t actually thought about it. 

Deanna hadn’t wanted him, and he couldn’t blame her. The situation hadn’t been right; he’d buried two girlfriends who knew that she had probably made the best possible choice.

But he had so few people left in the world who might not turn him away. Swarthmore, Pennsylvania. Not quite Alaska, but…

“You should. In the morning… It’ll be a good idea to get out of New Mexico. Anyway… Whatever you decide. Get some rest. I’m making breakfast in the morning.”

With that, she walked out and shut the door.

Jesse found himself unable to sleep. He found a yearbook in one of the drawers and flipped it open.

His own face was staring back at him, and he was smiling.

Maybe in the morning, he would ride to Pennsylvania. 

 

**The End**


End file.
